


An Iris, a Rose, and Stargazer Lillies

by blackblooddoomwolf



Series: Write Your Crimes On my Skin [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Alternate Universe - Psychopaths, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, BAMF Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Shiro (Voltron), Blood and Gore, Consensual Underage Sex, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Dark, Dark Hunk (Voltron), Dark Keith (Voltron), Dark Lance (Voltron), Dark Matt Holt, Dark Pidge (Voltron), Dark Pidge | Katie Holt, Dark Shiro (Voltron), Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Everyone Is Unstable, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Keith (Voltron), Human Shay (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Implied Gender Dysphoria, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Insecure Keith (Voltron), Japanese Shiro (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Kleptomania, Kleptomanic Matt Holt, Korean Keith (Voltron), Kuro (Voltron) Has a Personality Beyond Evil, Kuro (Voltron) has feelings, Lance (Voltron) Being a Little Shit, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Murder, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Polynesian Hunk (Voltron), Prostitute Lance (Voltron), Psychopath Lance (Voltron), Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Psychopaths In Love, Samoan Hunk (Voltron), Schizophrenia, Schizophrenic Matt Holt, Schizophrenic Pidge | Katie Holt, Serial Killer Keith (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) Being a Little Shit, Shiro (Voltron) Being an Asshole, Shiro (Voltron) Has DID - Dissociative Identity Disorder, Shiro (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Shiro (Voltron) is a Mess, Smoking, Sociopath Keith (Voltron), Soulmate-Writing, Trans Keith (Voltron), Trans Male Character, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, tattooed hunk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-05-14 03:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14761439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackblooddoomwolf/pseuds/blackblooddoomwolf
Summary: Voltron.The gang whispered about in dark corners. The crimelords that had taken America by storm in just under two years. The dark web littered with their footprints. The Galra police scrambling to find them anywhere. They were like phantoms of the underworld known only by grimly painted Lion masks and the destructive chaos they left in their wake. The Voltron Coalition, the definition of fear.To Pidge the gang was revenge.To Hunk the gang was protection.To Lance the gang was family.To Shiro the gang was proof of their love.To Keith the gang was finally a place to be himself.And together they would set the world on fire.





	1. Prison Flowers and Lonely Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, this took so long to post. My best friend is my beta reader and she hadn't gotten caught up on the Kuro plotline so I was waiting for her input. Hopefully, the next chapters will come out faster! Enjoy!

            Lance always knew he’d end up here.

 

            Knew that one day he’d be stuck in a five by five dirty cell. Stripped of all his possessions. Clothed in the most hideous shade of orange one could find. Trapped. Isolated. A prisoner

 

XxX

 

            Lance had known this from the moment he had overheard his Mamá and his oldest brother whispering about him in the kitchen of their 6th home.

 

“Mamá,” Luis had hissed grabbing his mother’s arm, “We have to do something about Lance.”

 

Lance’s mother had slapped Luis’ wrist with the towel in her hand, “We will do nothing hijo, nothing. The doctor said that it was too soon to tell.”

 

Luis had scowled, “But, Mamá! You see the way he acts around other kids! And the therapist said he had all the signs just that he couldn’t diagnose him because he’s so young-“

 

“Yes, young. Lance is only 5 years old. A lot can change before he turns 18.”

 

"By the time he's 18, he'll have killed half the family."

 

Mamá had lost it after that, “Luis Rodriguez McClain! You do not speak of your brother that way! Not in my house!”

 

“He convinced his friend, that little girl, to steal for him! And, once she handed over all the stuff she’d taken. He completely ignored her.”

 

Lance didn’t understand why that was such a big deal. The girl had wanted to play with him after all. It’s not his fault if the kind of games they played made her do bad things. But, she was also boring so why would he bother hanging out with her once she got him what he wanted. Besides, if Mamá had just bought him the candy he’d wanted they wouldn’t have been under those circumstances to begin with. Really it was her fault, not his.

 

“Face it Mamá he’s gonna turn out just like father.” Lance had frowned at that burying his head farther into the pillows of the couch pretending to be asleep.

 

Lance didn’t know who his dad was. Well, he did. His sister, Veronica, still had a picture of him in her room. Even after Mamá had rounded up all the pictures in the house to burn them. But, he didn’t know his father. He had only been three years old when his Mamá had run away with him and the rest of his family.

 

"Lance is a child!"

 

"Lance is a psychopath! And, you're too scared to admit it to yourself. Admit that Papá's illness could have an effect on all of us even when we're far away from him." Luis had stormed out then careful not to slam the door to his room. The twins were a terror to get back to sleep if woken up.

 

Psychopath. Lance didn't know what it meant. Just knew his brother disliked him for it. That bothered him, but not in the way he'd expected. He's expected to feel sad. Instead, he was unsettled. He felt like an alien in his own home. The same brother who loved to carry Rachel and Marco on his shoulders, who had religiously chased away the monsters under Veronica’s bed, and had just earlier today snuck Lance a cookie from Mamá's baking tray when she hadn't been looking, Hated him. Lance thought he was a good brother, he didn't cry the way the twins did anymore. He wasn't constantly butting heads with Marco like Rachel always had. He wasn't even going through that stupid puberty thing Marco was that made him constantly fight with Mamá. If anything Lance was the best sibling. What did Luis know anyway? Luis was just as annoying as his other siblings. Always trying to act like their father when he was only 16.

 

Lance was distracted by a familiar tickling sensation on his arm. Black and Red were talking again. The writing had started only a year ago though according to his Mamá he had been covered in purple practically since the day he’d been born. But, last year was the first time Red had commented. Black had been ecstatic and the two of them had hardly gone a minute since without speaking to one another. Lance read every word even if half of them seemed like utter gibberish. It was clear that both of his soulmates were older. Talking about school before Lance had even started kindergarten. That's why Lance hadn’t responded. Black and Red were so cool! But, Lance didn’t even know half of the things that they would talk about. How was he supposed to keep up? He couldn’t. So he waited instead, hoping that one day he’d suddenly understand what they were talking about and join the conversation. Lance wondered if his soulmates would hate him like Marco did when they found out about the Psycho-whatever thing. No. Surely not. Red and Black were perfect. They couldn’t hate him for something as small as that.

 

XxX

 

Luckily none of the psychiatrists at the prison had pieced together that little bit of information about himself. Lance liked to think it was because he was a good actor but in reality, it was more likely that they were bad at their job.

 

Lance shifted back on his bunk feeling along the edge of the metal frame until he felt a familiar smooth surface. Lance plucked the item from its hiding place. A button. Thick and black with the gray strands of fabric still tied around the center. Lance clutched it to his chest like he was scared it would disappear without warning.

 

 

It was a miracle he had made it this far with it. He had thought for sure that when they had searched him for knives, guns, and poison capsules. He would lose the button forever. But, surprisingly they hadn’t found it stowed away in his shoe.

 

It was a stupid memento. He should have gotten something better but, fuck it he was sentimental or whatever. Even though it made him look like a middle schooler with a single button strung on a necklace around his throat, it made Lance feel more relaxed. Well, as relaxed as he could be.

 

Lance knew logically he had nothing to fear. Not from the cops or the inmates. Even if someone figured out who he actually was Lance was a single sentence away from having the world's most feared serial killer at his beck and call. But, even with that knowledge, Lance couldn't help the way he froze at the mere mention of Voltron.

 

Luckily Pidge was covering his ass so no one knew the Blue Lion was missing. But, even learning that Lance wasn’t actually a member of the Balmerans as the police had suspected would spell bad news for his cover.

 

When the police had caught him he had been meeting with a new recruit in Balmera territory. The idea had been simple enough. Shiro had been watching the smaller gang for a long time. Two weeks prior he had finally brought his idea to the rest of the lions. If they wanted Voltron to stay on top of the crime wave they needed to eliminate any possible competition. The Balmera seemed like the perfect first target, the gang was still fairly small and was currently being hounded by the police. Pidge had guessed the gang would survive another year at most if something didn’t change soon. Keith had wanted to just let the gang kill itself out. More concerned about attracting the police’s attention then absorbing the gang. But, Hunk had raised an excellent point. The Balmera were flooding the drug market with higher quality shit then any of them had seen in the last two years. The Balmera had some sort of connection or formula that was costing Voltron a significant profit. If they absorbed the Balmera those connections and formulas would turn the tides on things. He and the others could hardly argue with Hunk on that point. The yellow division had been taking the hardest hit as of late. Lance knew Hunk was trying his best but the decline in profit was making all of them more touchy than usual. In the end the five of them had decided the Balmera were more useful to them as recruits then the Galra police were a threat. The idea was to start small. Expand their borders into claimed territory. Shut off the Balmerans trade with other gangs beside Voltron. Rescue the smaller gang from what should have been obvious police raids and drug busts. And of course begin the recruitment process. When the police had caught wind of recruitment going on in Balmeria territory, nevermind the fact that Voltron had claimed it only a week prior, they had pegged the recruiter, Lance, as a Balmeran gangster. Him. Lance. The Blue Lion himself. Hell if Chief Zarkon knew he was locked up in this dainty little prison in the outskirts of Chicago he’d probably cream his pants.

 

But Lance wasn't gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. He had gone completely unnoticed and was still able to work on converting the Balmerans from the inside out. Though he was finding more and more that recruiting was usually done with Lance down on his knees sucking people off to provide them with an incentive.

 

Even knowing that Keith and Shiro had agreed that Lance’s ‘talents’ were of good use to the gang he still knew it made the two of them uncomfortable. But Lance was no longer a child and knew that sometimes to climb to the top you had to do somethings you don’t necessarily want to do.

 

XxX

 

He remembered the morning of their first big push as Voltron. The gang, that was now whispered about in every dark alley and the top priority of every police officer across the entire country, still small and weak. With only thirty members at best and commanded by two adults, two teenagers, and a child, though Pidge would probably cut his head off for even thinking that.

 

He remembered running his hands through slicked back two-tone hair. His neck still covered in teeth marks from two sets of mouths. He remembered the familiar grumble coming through his headset as Pidge started to audibly gag at them.  He remembered slicing the button off of Shiro’s suit jacket and dancing out of his grasp when the older man had growled at him for it.

 

“Just a little good luck charm for my part of the mission.” He held the button up in the air triumphantly as if Shiro couldn’t easily snag it back from him if he wanted.

 

“Lance...how are we ever going to be taken seriously if I look like I was mugged?”

 

“We won’t. Which is perfect,” Lance smirked, “That way they’ll be surprised when their entire gang disintegrates beneath their feet. In fact...Keith! Come help me make Shiro look like he’s been mugged!”

 

“That, of course, is hinging on all of us actually succeeding.” Hunk groaned. He had his head buried in his arms, “Have I mentioned that this plan is crazy? Because this plan is crazy. And, we’re all gonna die.”

 

“Oh please,” Lance rolled his eyes, “Have some faith in us. Have I ever led you astray?”

 

Hunk raised his head and shrugged his shoulders, “I don't know. How about that time you convinced me to buy weed from an undercover cop. Or the time you nearly got both my moms caught carrying a dead body by inviting someone over to my house without warning us.”

 

Lance sputtered as Keith finally emerged from the bathroom. He was dressed almost completely in his Mamora body suit. Which had taken Hunk and Pidge about 7 months to perfect. “You called?” He drawled picking up his mask from their meeting table and unabashedly looking Shiro over.

 

“Lance thinks making Shiro look ragid will help the cause,” Hunk had pulled his laptop in front of him once more. Likely sending files to Pidge judging by the speed at which Lance could hear them speaking on the other end of his communicator.

 

"A statement I completely disagree with," Shiro said with a sigh.

 

"Oh come on!" Lance crossed his arms over his chest, "Who's the mastermind here?"

 

Hunk didn’t even look up from his computer, “Pidge.”

 

Lance ignored Pidge as they started to screech with victory.”Okay, fine. Second Mastermind.”

 

“Hunk.” Shiro and Keith answered together.

 

Lance scrunched up his nose at them as they all started to laugh. “Fine, laugh. It’s not like I care,” He huffed.

 

Keith chuckled crossing the room to his soulmates side. He wrapped an arm around Lance's waist and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. He then turned to Shiro eyes unreadable as he looked over the older man's attire.

 

“Keith?”

 

Before Shiro could blink there was a flash of silver and the distinct sound of ripping fabric. Hunk squawked and closed his eyes, “Please tell me you did not just tear Shiro’s clothes off. I did not sign up for this.”

 

“Why do you think I didn’t want to be there in person.” Pidge drawled.

 

Shiro blinked and looked down, thankfully his clothes had not in fact been ripped off. Something Hunk would thank Keith a million times over for later. Instead, the sleeve of his right arm had been ripped at the cuff, and one of the black army cufflinks that Shiro had been wearing rested innocently in Keith's palm.

 

“See! Keith gets it.” Keith shrugged his shoulders struggling not to turn red as Lance beamed at him.

 

“This is mine now. My, uh” Keith blushed. “Way of keeping you with me.” Keith eventually declared slipping away from Lance once more. He snatched his mask from the table and rushed back into the bathroom.

 

“Aww, we embarrassed him.” Lance cooed.

 

Shiro sighed and cleared his throat, “Alright, let’s go over the plan one more time...”

 

XxX

 

Lance was pulled from his memories by the familiar bell signaling it was time for dinner and quickly stashed the button back in its proper hiding place. Lance dropped from the top bunk with a soft thunk. Not missing the way his soulmate flinched and turned his back to him.

 

"That better not be a shiv," Lance said watching as his cellmate stuffed something into his pillowcase.

 

“Can it. Miguel.” The man growled standing up from his bed and brushing by Lance, making sure to nudge him hard enough to send him teetering toward the floor.

 

His cellmates name was Rolo. He was a strange person to say the least and never failed to make Lance feel like he knew more than he let on. He was taller than Lance by quite a bit and was built similar to Keith: lean but packed with muscle. He also wasn’t Balmeran. Which was very strange considering everyone else Lance had met in this particular prison besides Rolo and his soulmate Nyma in the women’s block of the prison were Balmeran, besides himself obviously.

 

Lance left his cell with a sigh ignoring the jeers of several other inmates as he passed their cell. His...service had made him rather popular among the other men and none of them had made much of a secret out of their leering and perverted comments. He resisted the urge to gag when one of the older Balmerans made a comment about his ass.

 

Lance managed to grab his food without incident. Sitting down at a table closest to the wall. No one was bothering him...yet. Lance picked at his food in boredom. He was ready to be out of this hell hole already. He missed his California King bed. He missed the way Shiro would sometimes cook on the weekends. The way Keith rested against his shoulder during long meetings. But most of all he missed his job. Missed luring poor wounded people into their world of crime. Missed molding broken hearted people into perfect soldiers for Keith and shady businessmen into cool-headed spies for Pidge.

 

But instead, Lance was a fucking prison whore waiting for the remaining heads of Voltron to bust his ass out of this shithole.

 

As if summoned by his thoughts Lance registered the familiar warm ticklish feeling of one of his soulmates soul writing on his side. He tried not to get his hopes up. It was probably just Keith and Sh-well Kuro again. They knew he had been taken. Hell, they knew practically within 5 minutes. Keith soul writing him while he was still sitting in the back of a police care

 

**Stay calm. We know. We’ll get you out.**

Which had been followed almost immediately by Kuro’s thick dark print. So, different from Shiro’s usual blocky writing

 

And when we find out who ratted you out we’ll rip their head off.

Which had dissolved rapidly into both his soulmates telling him exactly how much torture they were going to inflict on the snitch who had got Lance captured. Before it had all been washed away when Shiro came back to himself and realized that the police could read Lance’s skin just as easily as anyone else.

 

Shiro hadn’t written sense his apology. Kuro seemed to have full control of the reins for now and Lance could tell it was wearing Keith out. Kuro was chaos incarnate desperate to destroy as many things as he could get his hands on and had an unquenchable thirst for blood. Great for intimidation and getting out of dangerous situations. Not so great for trying to stay off the radar. Kuro and Keith were like a grease fire. A fire no soothing could smother; instead only stopping when there was no more oxygen left to burn. Lance had watched the two of them kill whole police divisions in mere minutes. Had watched the two claw and rip at victims until Lance had to physical remove them from bloody corpses. Apart they were devastating but with them urging one another into deeper and darker territory they became catastrophic. It never failed to amaze him how much the alters could deviate from the host. Shiro was like a balm to him and Keith. Able to calm their manic episodes within seconds. But of course Kuro was the quickest to appear of Shiro’s personalities. Ready to take over when Shiro couldn’t handle things any longer and acted no longer as a balm but a bucket of kerosene to ignite their flames. It was almost as if Kuro used Keith and himself as an extensions to protect the system when Kuro could not. Kuro was the crazy that tied the three of them together, but Shiro was the one who kept them from burning out like dying stars.

 

Lance glanced around before slowly inching up his orange top to look at the writing written under his right ribs.

 

A little bird told me the news was going to be interesting tonight. May want to tune in.

Yep still Kuros unmistakeable font. At least he seemed calmer this time around. Though calm for Kuro meant he was either up to something or was leaning heavily on Shiro to keep himself from growing paranoid. Almost immediately after Lance had finished reading he watched the ink begin to blur and then fade away presumably as Kuro washed the message from his own skin.

 

Lance glanced up at the television bolted to the wall. It was hard to see from this angle with the iron bars blocking 90 percent of the screen from view, but it was enough to get the gist of what was going on. The news was playing as it always did here. Perpetually stuck on the same dull newscasters with their monotone voices and lackluster headliners: ‘Kitten saved from a tree' Yeah! ‘Rich old ladies house broken into' boo! School bomb blows up and kills 200' boo-wait what? Regardless nothing that was particularly interesting to Lance. No word about Voltron or the Balmera. No serial killer Marmora murders. Nothing but regular run of the mill crime that would make Lance utterly bored if he were involved. What the hell had Kuro wanted him to pay attention to?

 

And then it happened.

 

The tv screen glitched. Black and white static lines running along the length of the tv screen, and in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen the tiny head of a white lion with ivy and moss colored swirls covering the lion's cheeks and forehead. No one else seemed to notice besides one of the guards who cursed under his breath about stupid glitching technology clearly not observing the green lions signature mark.

 

A little bird huh?

 

Pidge had finally hacked into the security of the prison and if Lance had to guess...Lance bumped his fork off the table carefully watching one of the many cameras in the room as he bent down to pick it up. Sure enough, the camera followed him, Pidge had eyes on him, and if Pidge was in the system Lance was one step closer to getting out.

 

"Hey, Miguel!" Lance blinked turning to look at one of the larger Balmarens, Taz, "What's a pretty thing like you doing eating all alone."

 

Taz reminded Lance a lot of Hunk. If Hunk were an over sexualizing douche bag who used Lance for his own pleasure. Which Hunk was not. He was a larger guy but unlike Hunk, whose weight made him not unlike a giant teddy bear, Taz just came across as sleazy. Lance doubted he was very physically strong probably not even as strong as Pidge who Lance had to forcibly tie down practically every day when he pissed them off. Really in the grand scheme of things Taz was more akin to a playground bully than a terrifying criminal. But, he had connections. Connections Lance really wanted.

 

If Pidge's intel was even remotely correct, which it always was as they ran the intelligence sector of Voltron with an iron fist, then Taz was distantly related to the head of the Balmera. Family was as precious as gold to the Balmerans. The gang was run very similarly to an old Italian mafia with the mantle of ‘boss' being passed to the oldest child of the family. The longer your family had been tied to the gang the more prestige and privilege you earned. If Lance could worm his way up the gang's hierarchy to the boss of the gang the Balmerans were finished.

 

"Taz!" Lance leaped from his seat and darted over to the Balmerans side, "I missed you."

 

Taz laughed and crushed Lance in a hug a cheap excuse to palm the younger man's ass lecherously, "Of course you did," He boasted settling down on the metal bench of the table Lance had been eating at.

 

Lance slid into the other man’s lap with a practiced grace. Lance may not have officially worked the street for almost a year now but you never forget how to be a good prostitute. Good prostitutes got paid and Lance was going for the lottery with Taz’s influence. Lance rubbed soothing circles into the fat man’s chest. “Where have you been? Nobody plays with me the way you do.”

 

Taz didn't offer an answer choosing instead to tug Lance's head up to cover Lance's mouth with his own. Lance let out an exaggerated moan and rolling his hips down onto the other man's already bloated cock. Taz groaned detaching himself from Lance's lips to slobber at the Cuban man's neck.

 

Lance briefly spared a thought for Pidge who was probably still watching the cameras. He wondered if they were still watching. Probably, with how much of a voyeur the youngest lion was. Even if Pidge had made it quite clear many times they had no interest in Lance sexually. Their loss.

 

What if Kuro and Keith were watching.

 

Now that would be a much more exciting. Lance looked over Taz's shoulder toward the nearest camera and smirked when he saw how it seemed to be focused on him. Regardless of rather, it was just Pidge on the other end of the camera or all of his fellow lions in an evening meeting. Lance was going to make sure to give them a show.

 

XxX

 

Kuro and Keith were not watching. Well, Keith wasn't. Hell if he knew where the older man had fucked off to. Keith had both of his feet planted on the floor and was lying sideways across the massive California king bed set up in their apartment. He had a lit cigarette tucked between his lips and as he flipped his knife between his fingers.

 

Keith sighed when he felt his body twitch suddenly, he'd killed somebody only two days prior and he was already feeling the urge again. It aggravated him like he didn't have control of his own body. Keith knew it was because he was stressed. Could see the evidence in the cigarette butts that littered the floor and the crushed up empty carton that he'd punted at the wall not ten minutes prior. But, he didn't know what to do about it. Normally he would ask his soulmates for advice but Kuro was being cageier than usual. Pacing constantly and snapping at anyone who approached him. He loved Kuro just as much as he loved all of the different personalities that Shiro had but he and Kuro were more likely to spend the afternoon fighting than acting all lovey-dovey. Just thinking about the argument the two of them would inevitably end up having gave Keith a migraine. Keeping the peace was Lance's job. Keith didn't know how Lance handled the two of them: hot-headed and bloodthirsty as they both were.

 

Lance…

 

Keith missed him so much. Lance was like the glue that held the three of them together and would have stopped any senseless argument that he and Kuro had with each other in less than a minute.

 

Keith spared a glance at his phone when it suddenly chirped out an alert at him. Probably another note on how the new recruits were handling training.

 

Keith knew he’d been neglecting the red division ever since Lance had been captured. But, Keith could hardly muster the energy to care. All Keith wanted was to have Lance back in their bed safe. And, with every passing minute that he wasn’t Keith could feel his very skin itch demanding that he go and break him out right this instant. He quelled that urge by seeking out new victims to carve Lance’s name into before burning them to non-descriptive ashes. Kuro hadn’t come home for the last few days either. Keith tried not to let it bother him but his absence was almost worse. Like Kuro had abandoned him.

 

Everyone Keith had ever known had abandoned him. What made Kuro any different.

 

XxX

 

“Katherine is back already?”

 

“How long was it this time?”

 

“Only a week. The foster family called her a lunatic.”

 

"Poor thing. At this rate, she'll never find a stable foster home. Let alone get adopted."

 

“Kathy is already twelve she has terrible odds of getting adopted anyway. Her behavior is just the icing on the cake.”

 

“Can you blame them though? Kathrine doesn’t handle other kids well at all. I heard the family before this past one nearly lost their daughter…”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“They caught her holding the babies head under the water!”

 

“That still doesn’t even hold up to the time she tried to electrocute Mary when she was pregnant with the twins .”

 

“I thought the judge ruled that as an accident?”

 

"Do you honestly believe that Eunice? This is Katherine we're talking about. She attacks people she views as a threat. That doesn't stop at those she feels attached too. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if it was worse."

 

“I know she doesn’t want to go back but maybe it’s time we…”

 

Keith had stepped out into the cafeteria then his long black hair hanging in front of his face in messy rats. He hadn’t bothered to talk to the ladies who ran the orphanage. They never listened to him anyway. That didn’t stop them from trying to talk to him.

 

"Oh, Kathy!" Keith had froze blinking up at one of the older ladies. If Keith had to pick anyone at the orphanage he actually liked it would probably be Eunice. She was a sweet lady with her hair frizzy white hair that Keith thought looked a lot like cotton candy or the clouds on a clear day. She had never been scared of Keith. Not when he had bit one of the other kids after telling him his parents were probably relieved they didn't have to deal with him anymore. Or the time one of the other caretakers had found his carving love notes to his soulmate on his thighs with a rusty nail he'd pulled from his bunk bed. Even after Keith had been dropped off by wide-eyed adults who claimed he had tried to murder them. Eunice would always just wrap him up in one of her hand-knit blankets and tuck him against her chest.

 

“My poor little Kathy. No one understands how scared you are.” She would always say. And even though she always called him Kathy, never Keith that was enabling him after all, he found that he never minded as much if it was her.

 

But, even for people like Eunice, there was a breaking point.

 

Eunice had stooped down to look at him gently brushing his filthy hair from his face so she could look into his tear dampened violet eyes. “We’ve been thinking it may be better if we take you to see a new doctor. One who could try to treat you again.” Eunice had been upset. The lines along her eyes pinched in from the sadness in her eyes, “We were wondering how you would feel if we took you back to the mental hospital.”

 

Keith had whimpered clutching his purple-stained forearms to his chest, “Please don’t send me back there. They hurt me…”

 

Eunice had clutched him to her chest her voice warbling with emotion, “We can’t help you. You’re a beautiful little girl, Katherine, but you need to see a doctor. Whatever is happening inside your head….we can’t fix you.”

 

Fix him. Like he was broken.

 

“We’ll be taking you there tomorrow. Maybe one day you can come back and join us.”

 

She was just like the others in the end.

 

That night the orphanage had gone up in a blaze of red and orange flames. And Katherine Kogane was assumed dead.

 

XxX

 

His phone started to ring, apparently whoever messaged him before didn’t like being ignored. Keith contemplated smashing the phone against the phone as an excuse not to answer but that wouldn’t help any of them in the long run.

 

“...this better be important.”

 

“Sir,” Thace’s voice sounded tired, “The yellow division had another balmarian break in over in the warehouse district.”

 

Fuck.

 

“Has anyone notified the Yellow Lion yet?”

 

"No, sir. The Yellow Lion has gone virtually off the grid since he went undercover to scout the Balmera headquarters. The Yellow division is in a blind panic. I've already got red sectors three and four in route to protect the labs and hopefully calm down some of the hysteria. But, I was uncertain what you wanted to do about the warehouses."

 

Keith quickly switched his phone to speaker and threw it down on the bed. "I'll check out warehouse 26 personally." Keith quickly redressed himself in a crisp white button up and slacks. He decided not to wear a suit jacket to stiff if he needed to go into actual combat. "Yellow said something about getting a new shipment of fully automatics in just the other day and we can't afford to lose track of them if the Balmerans nicked them." He quickly snapped his red suspenders into place and shoved a pistol into his holster, one of Lance's but Keith didn't have time to get emotional about that. "As for the other warehouses send Antok's division and the new recruits. It's about time they saw what being part of the coalition means." Keith grabbed his mask from his and Shiro's shared dresser. The lion depicted on the mask was completely white with a red and gold helmet covering its forehead and muzzle. Keith slipped the mask on with practiced ease. The mask fit like a second skin completely obscuring everything but his violet eyes from view.

 

“Of course Sir!” Thace sounded relieved at the orders and lack of rebuke from his usually hot-tempered division leader.

 

“Has anyone contacted Black?”

 

“The Black Lion? Er no we were sort of hoping you would be willing to speak with him.”

 

Keith tried not to laugh at the obvious anxious tone of his fourth in command, “Someone scared of getting eaten?” Keith knew Kuro came off as extremely intimidating and had been running the gang ragid. Not to mention the whole gang had no idea about Shiro and his multiple personalities so

most of the gang viewed their leader as a ticking time bomb. “I’ll handle Black. I’ll notify the other lions as well. That is if Green doesn't already know, nosy bastard.”

 

“Sir…”Keith raises an eyebrow behind his mask at Thace’s sudden change in town, “May I make a suggestion?”

 

Keith scooped up both his phone and his knife from the bed, “I’m listening,” he tucked his phone into the crook between his shoulder and ear. He left the apartment listening for the soft whir of the automatic lock before heading toward the staircase.

 

"Well with the yellow division's sudden break in and rush of panic without the yellow lion to lead them right now. I'm sure the division would appreciate some reassurance."

 

“Just cut to the chase.”

 

“Right well. Doesn’t the Blue Lion usually handle moral? I know that you said he’s not to be disturbed bu-“

 

“Blue is working on a very important mission. He can’t play cheerleader right now.” Keith interrupted. Not that Lance could do anything even if he wanted to, “Besides, Blue’s division is recruitment. Does this issue involve recruitment?”

 

“Well, no sir but-“

 

"This is a red division issue. Keeping the gang safe. Kicking people out of our territory that's our job, not Blue's. If you're that worried about the yellow division I'll send Black out that way. He's the leader, I'm sure he'll be able to figure something out."

 

“Red sir, are you sure that’s wise? Black has been very volatile lately.”

 

Keith stopped in the stairway and growled into the phone, “Don’t underestimate our leader Thace. You’re a valuable member of my division don’t ruin your position with hearsay.”

 

“Of course, sir. Sorry, sir.”

 

Keith ends the call without another word. He steps out into the lobby barely sparing a glance at the attendant running the front desk. She was paid quite handsomely for her silence and was a valuable member of the black division even if she wasn't active in the gang itself. She had been utterly enamored with the triad since they moved in and had been won over easily by Lance's broad smile and Shiro's offer to be part of their inner circle. She waved Keith off before going back to scribbling on her arm. It took him three consecutive calls and a litany of curse words before Kuro picked up the phone.

 

"Hello, sweet cheeks," Kuro's voice was syrupy sweet and practically reeking with sarcasm, "Most people would take the hint that I don't want to answer the phone after two calls."

 

“You’re an asshole.” Keith grits out, “I get that you have a fucking vendetta against me for god knows what reason but I am still your sou-second in command.” He sighed rubbing his hand over his face, “Dammit it doesn’t matter right now anyway.” Keith stepped out the front door and quickly made his way over to his motorcycle parked in its own reserved place to the right of the building, “Yellow’s division got hit. Need you to go play leader and calm everyone done. Oh and try not to be too much of a fucking asshole while you’re at it, or better yet let Shiro or hell even Gure handle it. Instead of your narcissistic pain in the ass.”

 

“Feisty today aren’t we?” Kuro chuckled unphased by his soulmates anger, “I’ll take care of things.” His voice was softer now and less hostile but still noticeably Kuro, “Go play avenging angel. I’ll see you later tonight.”

 

Keith grunted a response refusing to let Kuro off so easily, “Yeah, whatever.” He straddled his motorcycle grinning at the familiar purr of the beasts engine.

 

“Oh and Keith?”

 

“...”

 

“I love you.”

 

Keith hangs up shoving his phone into his pocket. He's glad he's wearing his mask so no one can see him blushing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I have an important question for you guys. I have the plotline for this story mostly planned out but I wanted to get your opinion on what pairing I should pursue. Obviously the main pairing of this story is Lance/Keith/Shiro, however, I was curious if you guys would like to see Hunk/Pidge or Hunk/Shay for the rest of the story. Please let me know what you want as I have ideas for both soulmate pairings. Please leave a comment or kudos if you have the time you guys provide the motivation for my writing. Thanks again for reading!


	2. Black Rose Thorns and Wistful Delusions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to apologize for such a late update but here it is! I write when I feel like it so my upload schedule my be sort of strange. However, I have big plans for this series so it's in no danger of going unfinished. To compensate for the weird schedule I try and much sure each of my chapters are at least 5,000 words to make sure you still feel connected to the story. 
> 
> In other news I haven't seen the newest season yet so if anything new is revealed about the characters personalities or families it won't be covered here. I do try and stay true to canon (mostly) so if I see any glaring errors in things I've put in my stories I'll try and rework them. 
> 
> Important Knowledge Regarding DID!
> 
> Host-The main personality of someone who has DID. This is the personality that is present the majority of the time. This may or may not be the same personality as the one the person originally started with. Ex Shiro
> 
> Alter-Any other personality that is present besides the Host. Ex Kuro and Gurē
> 
> Other information:
> 
> Although a host can have any number of alters they generally always have at least two specific types.
> 
> The protector-This is usually the first personality discovered as it is the personality that takes over during times of stress or danger. Ex Kuro
> 
> The child-This personality can be hard to discover due to its nature. This personality tends to hold on to the personality of the child prior to the trauma that cause the split in personality. It's noteworthy that while the personality has the beliefs and basic nature of the child the personality can develop and change over time. Ex Gurē
> 
> Enjoy~

The gravel under Kuro’s feet made a wet crunching sound with every step he made. The sound a foreboding symphony as he walked up the drive to warehouse number one. He had his mask perched firmly on his face the black metallic base of the lions head cast in the shadow of the luster of the gold armor plating that covered the lion's muzzle and forehead. He was dressed rather casually beyond the mask in a pair of gray jeans and a sleeveless navy hoodie inscribed with the NASA logo. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear Shiro mumbling about the importance of appearances but Kuro ignored him. He had both of his hands shoved into the front pockets as he approached the door.

The first thing he noticed was the obvious gaping hole along one of the garage doors.

‘Explosion?’ The question came from Gurē this time. As both Shiro and Gurē peered through Kuro’s eyes with unabashed curiosity.

“That would be my guess.” Kuro murmured to himself crouching down to examine the point of entry.

‘If it was an explosion than the Balmerans obviously didn’t care about being overheard.’ Shiro seemed puzzled, ‘But, if they were that loud why weren’t we notified sooner.’

Kuro shrugged running his fingers along the edge of the hole. Unsurprised when his fingers came back covered in black gunpowder. “Maybe they were just trying to scare us. Prove that they knew where our shit was. That would make this more of a threat than a theft.”

‘Possibly,’ Shiro agreed, ‘but that doesn’t explain why we weren’t alerted as soon as the explosion was heard. We probably have a rat.’

“That’s a lot of damn rats to have not reported anything.” Kuro scoffed reaching up with his metallic hand to push against the surrounding metal of the garage which warped quickly beneath his fingers. “Metal composition was compromised in the explosion. Whatever they used to blow this shit open ran hotter than basic dynamite.”

‘Kuro?’ Gurē seemed confused by the quick exchange of information between the other two personalities. He struggled to find something to contribute to the conversation, “Can we tell how long ago it happened?” Gurē asked as if he was unsure if he should even ask the question.

Kuro blinked before leaning back on his heels to examine the pseudo entrance as a whole, “Damn I don’t know probably two maybe three hours ago.”

‘And we were only notified an hour earlier.’ Shiro sighed.

‘Maybe everyone was on lunch break?’

Kuro snorted, “That’s actually not that bad of an idea Gurē.” If voices in your head could grin Kuro would swear Gurē was beaming.

‘But, that doesn’t account for everything.” Shiro sighed, “There’s no way everyone in the building all decided to take their lunch break at the same time. Besides many of them likely stay on site during lunch to prevent this exact thing from happening.’

“S-sir,” Kuro was jolted from his inner monologue by a fidgeting young man. He tilted his head up to look at him. Waiting for feedback from Shiro on who exactly he was speaking with. When Shiro responded in confusion Kuro raised from his position on the floor.

“You part of the yellow division.” The young man nodded eyes glued to the fierce snarl of the lion mask. “Care to tell me what the hell happened here.”

“I-I’m not authorized to talk about the break-in. I just work in one of the greenhouses. I’m not part of management so my boss told me to just stay ou-“

Kuro held up a hand to stop the man from speaking, “Listen kid, do you know what this mask means.” Kuro rapped the side of the lion's muzzle with his knuckles.

“Of course sir. You’re the black lion si-“

“Exactly,” Kuro cut him off again, “So unless yellow himself told you to keep quiet. There’s no boss more important than me. You answer any question I’ve got for you. Got it.” The man looked uncertain shifting back and forth on his feet.

“I d-don’t want to cause you any trouble sir. But, if my boss catches wind of this. I-I could lose this job. I can’t afford to do that sir.”

‘Do we need to interrogate him? Threaten him for information?’ Gurē's voice was equal parts excited and terrified at the notion. Even when Shiro quickly jumped in to scold him for not thinking more diplomatically.

Kuro nodded understandingly, “I get that kiddo. I really do. But think about it.” Kuro reached out to rest his metallic hand on the other man’s shoulder. Squeezing tightly until the man barely winced under his grip, “Which is more important hmm? Your job or keeping that pretty head of yours in one piece.” The man froze stumbling over a slurry of stuttered words.

‘Kuro!’ Shiro’s voice was sharp in his head, ‘We want loyal members, not terrified ones!’

‘But he won’t talk to us.’ Gurē sounded confused. ‘Isn’t this how we get what we want?’

‘You've been listening to Keith too much.’ Shiro sighed, “Kuro, please.”

Kuro sighed rolling his eyes behind the mask, “What’s your name kid?”

“C-Conner sir,”

“Conner,” Kuro patted the man on the shoulder, “You seem like a smart kid. Tell you what. You tell me what you know and I’ll put a good word in with Yellow for ya. Make sure your jobs nice and safe.” The other man’s eyes lit up, “But,” Kuro wagged his finger in front of the man’s face, “If you keep something from me I will find out. You’re smart but I’m smarter. And Voltron doesn’t like liars. Got it?” He waited until the man had calmed down and given him a shaky nod of understanding. “Great glad we agree on something. Now spill.”

Conner recounted the event of earlier that day with little hesitance. He worked in one of the greenhouses in the back of the warehouse. “I mostly just water the crops and put whatever chemicals I’m told to in the soil. The marijuana we grow in the warehouse is low quality. Mostly used to just overwhelm the market and entice in new customers. The better shit is in warehouse 7 and 13.” He explained that this morning all the employees had been gathered to discuss the daily outward shipments. “We have to go over it every day to make sure everyone knows who can focus on manufacturing or nursing and who needs to start loading stuff into the vans.” It had been a fairly normal shipment that morning. He had explained except for one small difference, “We had a shipment of C4 going out today. They don’t happen very often since the main hub for C4 is in Warehouse twenty-two but we do get the occasional shipment of it from warehouse one since the red division is spread all over the city and warehouse twenty-two is so far from here.”

‘C4 could have definitely caused this degree of damage.’ Shiro sighed, ‘But, that still doesn’t explain why no one reported it.’

“So let me get this straight,” Kuro drawled crossing his arms over his chest, “Everyone in the goddamn facility knows C4 is being tossed around and no one thought to call when there was an explosion? What do we pay you to do huh? Sit around with your thumbs up your asses while valuable assets explode around you?”

“N-no sir, you don’t understand.” The division worker wrung his hands together clearly made nervous by the Black Lion, “Every shipment goes with no less than three red division members to keep the stuff we produce here safe. The more important the item the more members the red lion sends our way. There’s no way that the C4 could have been hijacked.”

“I’m hearing a whole lot of covering your own ass and not enough of a plausible explanation for why no one reported a C4 explosion.”

“It’s not uncommon for something that volatile to explode between the transition from the warehouse to the van. We have at least three grenades blow up on sight every week. None of us reported the explosion because explosions aren’t that uncommon here. The last time one of us reported an explosion it turned out to be one of the meth labs that hadn’t been monitored properly. The whole thing turned into a shit storm that ended with half the red division scouring the warehouse including the red lion himself. Needless to say when they figured out the source of the issue the Red Lion was livid. Killed half of our management for their inadequacy in handling the situation.”

Kuro could remember that night vividly. Gurē had been in control after they had woken up from a terrible nightmare. They had been crying so hard that it had woken up both Lance and Keith almost instantly. It had taken Lance and Keith almost three hours to calm them down from their hysteria. The three soulmates pressed so tightly to each other that they weren’t even sure where each one of them ended and their counterparts began.

And then Keith had gotten the call. Kuro to this day could not recall a time that Gurē had forced both of their personalities to switch so rapidly. One second Gurē had been begging Keith to stay and the next Kuro had tackled the sociopath and pinned him to the bed angry tears spilling down his cheeks as Gurē and Shiro pressed their consciousness into his. Almost like they were one personality for once. One terrified and distressed personality that Gurē and Shiro had decided to let him command.

In the end, Lance had to knock them out in order for Keith to both check the issue and to keep the three of them from driving each other over the edge of insanity.

So yeah, Kuro understood why Keith had been pissed to find out it had been a false alarm.

“After the meth incident management forbade is from reporting explosions. Told us that all of them would be investigated by the red division on staff here and to keep our nose out of things.”

Kuro sighed, “So the Balmera were able to waltz up here. Blow a hole in the side of the warehouse. Steal five tons of shit marijuana and bounce without anyone even going to check the source of the explosion. Damn!” Kuro kicked the side of the garage causing Conner the jump in place, “So now we gotta find the rat who gave the Balmera all this information. Plus completely revamp our fucking security because our management was too busy fucking jacking off to check the source of the explosion. It might as well be fucking Christmas!” Conner slowly edged away from Kuro as the older man lashed out at the garage door again with his prosthetic arm. Denting the metal into the shape of his fist, “On top of that Yellow is undercover and doesn’t even know this is fucking happening. And apparently, the yellow division can’t last two months running itself. Red is pissed off for fuck knows what reason and Blue is-“ Kuro cut himself off with a click of his jaw. “I’ve got so much bullshit to clean up because of this!”

‘Umm Kuro?’

“What!” Kuro snapped, ignoring how Conner was trembling as he redirected his anger towards his alter, “What else could you possibly want to add to this conversation!”

Gurē fumbled with his words for a moment before responding, ‘I just wanted to say that I don’t think we have a rat.’

XxX

The apartment had seen better days. The wooden floorboards were rotted through. The wallpaper peeling in thick scrolls of moldy paper down the walls. The kitchen had been completely stripped bare. As had the laundry room...and the bathroom. What the old owner wanted with the apartment's toilet was totally beyond Pidge’s understanding.

Pidge sat in the corner of the room, where the floorboards were most stable, back against the slightly damp wall. Feet propped against the opposite wall to hold their laptop up.

They’d been camped out in this shitty excuse of an apartment for the last three weeks. It was the only hideout Voltron had even remotely close to the prison and Pidge was on babysitting duty. Well, Lance sitting duty. Which was probably worse than babysitting. Pidges laptop chimed with a notice.

-DadClone96 has joined the group chat-

DADCLONE96: I have good news and bad news.

PIGEONOFWAR: Great. Hit me with it.

DADCLONE96: The whole yellow division is full of fucking idiots. The Balmerans blew a hole the size of Texas in the wall and stole a bunch of drugs and fuck knows what else!

PIGEONOFWAR: Which means we have a rat.

Pidge groaned thumping their head back against the wall with a huff. If Voltron had gotten a rat because Shiro had put the head of Voltron’s intelligence (read: them) on soulmate watch. Pidge was going to lose their goddamn mind.

DADCLONE96: Actually no.

DADCLONE96: I don’t think we have a double agent.

DADCLONE96 I think Chef led them here.

PIGEONOFWAR: Why the fuck would Chef do that?

DADCLONE96: To gain the Balmerans trust. Think about it. Chef knows better than literally anyone else what the yellow division can risk in terms of resources. Give a little bit of insider info. Gain their trust. Sweep the gang off its feet when it least expects it. Besides the whole situation is sort of odd. Our alter pointed out that no one knows the yellow division shipment schedule ahead of time with the exception of Chef and myself. Well, our host anyway. I don't pay attention to any of that shit. Management is notified in the morning and then the message is given to the rest of the division in the afternoon. And it’s all split up by warehouse as well to prevent warehouse one from knowing what goes on in all the other warehouses.

PIGEONOFWAR: Did your host ask him to do that on this mission?

DADCLONE96: What do you mean? How the fuck should I know if we told him to do anything? That would have been before I got control and my lovely host is not exactly responding to me at the moment.

PIGEONOFWAR: Look Chef is smart but not really in the...social skills department.

DADCLONE96:...Says the gremlin from behind their computer screen.

PIGEONOGWAR: Give Chef three sticks of gum and a toothpick and he can sneak into the white house if he wanted. But when it comes to lying to people. Actively manipulating people to do what he wants. I think the mere idea would send him spiraling into a panic attack.

DADCLONE96: Pigeon, look this was no normal attack. They didn’t touch anything of value. Cereal just wrote me to say that warehouse number 26 has nothing missing. If this was a rat, who truly knew his shit they would have gone directly for the new weapons and drugs. Instead, they went for a handful of C4 and a couple shitty greenhouses of marijuana.

PIGEONOFWAR: That still doesn’t add up though. You and I both know that Chef hates social interaction that’s why he always relies on the Tailor to… wait a second.

Pidge quickly closed out of the tab to pull up a text document from their desktop. It was a long ass file. One that Pidge wished they didn’t feel like they had to have. “Abnormalities of Soulmate Writing”.

PIGEONOFWAR: Can you do me a favor? I have a theory.

DACLONE96: Depends does it require captain stuck up or creepy boy? If so it’s not happening.

PIGEONOFWAR: Contrary to popular belief. None of us give a shit what personality you want to carry around for the day.

DADCLONE96: Could have fooled me. Considering how many times you guys have told me that one of the other two would be better at this whole leader shit.

PIGEONOFWAR: Only because they're more suited for the job. That’s the equivalent of asking Tailor to build a gun or Cereal to schmooze with the police. It’s not your thing. You’re more of the beating up traitors type then a leader.

DADCLONE96: I hope you know I don’t actually give a shit. I don’t care rather you find me useful or not. It’s unimportant to me

PIGEONOFWAR: Suuuuuure, I’m sure that’s exactly why you're avoiding Cereal right now.

DADCLONE96: I’m not avoiding him.

DADCLONE96: I just don’t like fighting with him.

Pidge read the chat with fascination. So Kuro did actually care about Keith. They’d always wondered about how both Kuro and Gurē felt about Shiro’s soulmates. Technically they were just as much Lance and Keith’s soulmates as Shiro was but she doubted it was that simple in their head. Pidge knew that Kuro felt the need to protect Shiro’s soulmates but they never could tell if that was just because he was supposed to prevent any further psychological harm to Shiro or if he actually cared. They knew that the three personalities didn’t always like the same people. Shiro generally got along with everyone but Kuro could count the people he actually cared about on one hand and Gure...Pidge didn’t think Gurē liked anyone.

PIGEONOFWAR: I need you to soulwrite Cereal.

  
DADCLONE96: Okay? But, wouldn’t it be easier to call him. I mean sure soul writing is faster but being the middleman in a conversation sounds extremely dull.

PIGEONOFWAR: Just do what I say, dad.

PIGEONOFWAR: I want you to message him and ask him if he gave any orders to Chef. Doubtful but not impossible. If he says he hasn’t then it’s likely that Tailor has been messaging Chef in a way only Platonic soulmates can.

DADCLONE96: Wait he can just message Chef without messaging Cereal and I? Isn’t that impossible.

PIGEONOFWAR: It was believed to be impossible for a long time, however, there have been countless examples throughout history proving the contrary. From the data I’ve managed to scrounge up, it looks like it’s relatively rare among Platonic pairs. Mostly showing up for pairs of soulmates who have known their platonic mate since they were young children. Instead of writing on your skin. Platonic mates with this rare type of writing can merely trace words on their skin. The corresponding mate then registers the words without them ever actually appearing on their skin. That’s why people don’t generally believe it. Because none of it is visibly written down. Most scientists tend to believe this was developed as a safety mechanism for people with soulmates who were abusive or manipulative. Howeve-

DADCLONE96: Holy fuck I get it! Jesus, I didn’t want a goddamn lecture. I’m writing Cereal now.

“Huh, that’s pretty clever.”

Pidge nearly shit themselves as a familiar brunette suddenly leaned into their shoulder pushing his head in front of theirs to scan through the open text file on platonic soul writing.

“Could you fucking not.” Pidge huffed shoving Matt out of the way, “Couldn’t you leave me alone for one god damn night.”

Matt shot them a grin, “Come on Katie. You know how to get rid of me if you really want me gone.”

Pidge didn’t bother to give him a response. He was right after all. If they really wanted him to disappear he could be gone within thirty minutes.

Matt laughed stretching his arms up above his head until he heard the satisfying pop of several vertebrae. Pidge as always was drawn to the writing decorating his skin. Their own lime green was bright against his sun-darkened skin mixed with a dark shade of rose and navy blue. She knew it was an illusion. That the writing was a mere fabrication of their own mind. But every time they saw their own writing across his skin they felt their heart jump into their throat.

DADCLONE96: He wrote back.

DADCLO9NE96: Grumply. But he wrote back.

PIGEONOFWAR: Literally everything Cereal does is done grumpily.

DADCLONE96: He said and I’m quoting here. “Why the fuck would I be giving Chef orders that’s YOUR job”

PIGEONOFWAR: So, they are somehow communicating. Or Chef really really wanted to get on someone’s good side.

“How come you never messaged me like that.” Matt had settled back down at his sibling's side resting his head on their shoulder, “Would have been fun when we were kids and got grounded.”

“Matt, we just learned about this five seconds ago.” Pidge rolled their eyes relaxing back into their brother's side. “Besides, we may not even have that kind of connection since it’s so rare.” When he was sitting this close they could smell the sandalwood shampoo he used in his hair and the faint smell of engine oil from his workshop. It was so familiar, so real, Pidge could almost forget.

Forget that he was a figment of their imagination.

That their real brother had been missing for almost 5 years now.

XxX

Pidge was holed up in their bedroom. It was around noon but they had pulled the blinds closed and kept the lights off to throw their bedroom into darkness. Pidge was curled up in their desk chair practically swimming in a large brown comforter, the glint of their computer screen reflecting off their glasses.

Pidge flicked through their open tabs with astonishing speed. Occasionally glancing toward their closed door to make sure their mother wasn’t coming to check on them. Because what they were doing was illegal.

Like really really illegal.

They had hacked into the FBI’s database. And not for fun this time.

Matt and their father had been missing for approximately 2 and ½ years.

Matt had been dishonorably discharged from the army after being discovered hacking into classified files. Matt was a bit of a kleptomaniac rather it be a car or private documentation. When Matt caught wind of the existence of something he didn’t have. He had to go get it. Unfortunately this time it had come back to bite him in the ass.

Matt had been careless. Had gotten spooked when he heard someone trying to enter the barracks and hadn’t properly covered his tracks.

Regardless Matt had been discharged but thankfully, due to the Holt family's excellent, and expensive, lawyer, had narrowly dodged being charged with treason.

But, then he never came home and neither had their dad who had decided to leave the army once Matt had been discharged.

The date when they were supposed to arrive back home came and went. No word, no letters, not even any soul writing from Matt. They just...disappeared.

For the first year. Pidge and their mom had worked tirelessly to try and uncover what had happened. But, there was nothing. No paper trail. No signs of them even getting on the plane to return home. They even tried to file a missing persons report. However, that had ended rather quickly when the police showed up on their doorstep and told the two of them that both Matt and their father were presumed dead.

Pidge’s mother had given up then. They’d been missing for a year and there were no signs that indicated they were alive. But Pidge couldn’t believe how easily she gave up.

Pidge knew they were alive. They could feel it.

Matt had never messaged them, but somehow they knew. Their connection was like a phantom limb. Intangible but thick and strong with coarse muscle. Like a woven cord threaded directly through their spine that stretched across the distance to Matt’s skeleton.

Pidge has tried to explain to their mother. Begging her to understand. Their family was out there. Probably under government watch and they had to save them. But nothing seemed to get through to her. She loved her husband but they weren’t soulmates. She couldn’t feel her husband as Pidge could feel their brother and Pidge could blame no one but the universe for that.

Pidge didn’t even blink when they felt familiar long arms drape themselves around their waist a sharp chin settling on top of their head.

“Katie, it’s no use. You’ve already checked these files like 9 billion times,” Matt huffed.

“You’re annoying me. I’m working.” Pidge grunted back, hands flying over the keyboard as they broke through the FBI laboratory firewall.

“Don’t know why you’re even bothering. I’m definitely a rotting corpse by now.”

Matt was a delusion. One that Pidge had selfishly decided to let stay in their world.

Pidge had inherited schizophrenia from their father, same as Matt. Usually, it resulted in panic attacks and the strong urge to jump in front of a bus, but sometimes it gave Pidge Matt.

The Matt in Pidge’s delusion was crueler than their brother. Eager to dig into Pidges insecurities and taunt them for their attempts at finding him.

But Pidge kept him around anyway. Actively made the choice to avoid taking the bright pink candy cane capsules stashed away in their bedside table. Because even if it wasn’t really Matt. It felt like him. Smelled like him. And even if it was just their own mind. At least they weren’t alone.

XxX

Keith had found nothing.

The whole warehouse was practically pristine. No indication of a break-in. No tripped alarms. No missing equipment. Everything was totally normal.

And it was pissing Keith off.

Logically Keith should have been ecstatic that their most valuable assets had been untouched. But, Keith had been subconsciously gearing himself up for a fight. Only to find nothing. If Lance were here he’d probably be laughing at him. But he wasn’t. Which just pissed him off more.

The receptionist jumped in her seat when Keith burst through the front doors of the apartment complex. Keith didn’t bother to apologize as he slammed his hands down on the front desk.

“Tell Kuro, that if he doesn’t get his ass home he’s gonna need to call out every goddamn cleaner he knows to get the blood out of our carpet.”

The poor girl nodded her head like a bobble head scattering her papers across her desk as she scrambled for her phone.

Keith pulled away from the desk with a huff. Ignoring the small twinge of guilt he felt in his chest for the clear panic the young lady was in. She wasn’t in any danger. He liked her too much and she was damn good at her job. He’d thought she understood that. That he would never hurt her. That even as angry as he was he wouldn’t suddenly lose his mind and kill everyone he actually gave a shit about. But, instead, she was just as terrified as everyone else.

XxX

By the time Kuro got the apartment, it was already in shambles. Documents that had littered the coffee table in neat stacks that morning were scattered across the floor. There were at least two gunshots that had gone through the living room wall and five knives of various sizes shoved hilt deep into the plaster ceiling. But Keith was nowhere in sight.

“I believe this qualifies as a temper tantrum.” Kuro snarked leaning down to pick up what looked vaguely like their bed comforter except totally shredded to pieces with feathers oozing out of its side. “You know the kind of thing 4 years olds have. Not 25-year-old men.”

Kuro didn’t even flinch as a knife sailed past his head to thunk into the door jamb behind him. “Oh, Keith what would you have done if you hit me?”

There was no response from the other man as he stayed hidden in whatever cubby he’d holed himself up in.

Kuro sighed as he began to try and gather the important papers from the floor. Keith hadn’t actually destroyed any of them but Shiro wasn’t sure if he’d left them alone on purpose because he knew they were the only thing Kuro couldn’t replace or if he’d merely lost interest in them as soon as they hit the floor.

“You know they never talk about this part of having a soulmate in high school.” Kuro paused to read over one of the papers before shrugging and adding it to his pile. It was some complicated contract Shiro had typed up several weeks ago that Kuro only vaguely remembered being bored by at the time. “I must have missed the assignment on pissy soulmates.”

Before Kuro could blink he was on the floor. Keith’s angry face looming above him and a wickedly sharp knife pressed against his jugular. “I fucking hate you sometimes.”

Kuro laughed, “Thanks for confirming what I already knew.” It shocked him how relieved he was to see him. It had been what? A week since he’d last seen the younger man. Seeing that Keith looked just as safe and healthy as he had a week prior made some previously unknown tension release inside of him. Even if Keith did look like a very pissed off cat.

“Where have you been?” Keith snarled.

“Working, baby. Someone’s gotta pay the bills.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been avoiding me.”

“If you already knew the answer why ask the question?” Kuro could sense Shiro on the fringes of his conscious. Disapproving. But Shiro could fuck off. He was the one that was too chickenshit to take charge. If he was going to be a goddamn baby about speaking to Keith then Kuro could say whatever the fuck he wanted. With that thought firmly in mind, he shoved Shiro away locking the host personality behind Kuro’s own control.

An emotion flashed across Keith’s face so fast he almost missed it but his scowl hardened over it quickly before Kuro could attempt to decipher it. “What purpose does avoiding me serve. Huh? You trying to sneak around behind my back. Do something I wouldn’t approve of.”

Kuro laughed, “Oh honey, what could I possibly do that you wouldn’t approve of.”

“I don’t know! Cheat on me, turn us into the police, risk your neck for some stupid thing the gang doesn’t actually need.”

“Keith,” Kuro reached up to wrap his hands around Keith’s waist ignoring the sharp sting of the blade as it slit a thin line into his throat, “I’ve got no plans, promise. I’m not much of a planning type. That’s Shiro and Gurē’s job I’m more of an action man myself.”

“So you’re cheating on me.”

Kuro burst out laughing, “Yes, yes I am...with Lance.”

Keith groaned, “I’m being serious Kuro.”

Kuro reached up to frame Keith’s face with his hands ignoring the uncomfortable feeling as the knife at his throat cut deeper into him, “Keith why would I ever cheat on you when you’re already everything I want?” He threaded his fingers through the younger man’s hair brushing soft lines across his cheekbones with his thumb, “My perfect little sociopath.”

Keith resisted the urge to lean into Kuro’s touch, “You’re trying to distract me.”

Kuro grinned, “Is it working?”

Keith blushed but narrowed his eyes at the other man determined to get the answers he wanted, “Why have you been avoiding me.”

Kuro sighed thumping his head back down against the floor in defeat, “I don’t have a choice do I?”

Keith’s eyes went wide suddenly before darkening with anger. Actual anger this time, not the kind that he’d greeted Kuro with but the kind that ended with bodies so disfigured you couldn’t even identify them as humans anymore, “Is someone threatening you?” His voice was completely monotone.

Kuro laughed, “No, it’s nothing like that.” Kuro sighed and looked away from Keith his mouth turning down in a nearly invisible frown, “I just…” He stopped, pressing his lips together so hard that they went pale and colorless, “You know we can’t control our personality. We don’t…choose which one of us gets control. I mean not really.” He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth to worry it between his teeth, “There are times when we can give like joint control? To an extent. But mostly it’s a….a….well an environment thing I guess. Gurē will always take control when we feel safest or when we ‘need’ to get away from responsibility. Shiro is always going to be in charge when we feel more stable, less crazy and paranoid. And then there’s me.” Kuro sighed, “I’m in control when we’re in danger, or we’re scared, angry, jealous. Any negative feeling and I’m probably the one who has to deal with it. But, even knowing that. Even knowing that you know that…” Kuro sighed, “I just hate the way you look at me.”

Keith cocked his head to the side seemingly struggling to process what the other man had said, “You don’t want me to look at you?”

Kuro groaned and shoved Keith off of him ignoring the bite of pain as the knife slid across his jaw and cheek slicing through the skin like butter, “Fucking forget it not important now.”

“Kuro? Wait.” Keith flung the knife to the side and Kuro spared a second to send a silent apology to their couch which took the knife like a champ. Keith then wrapped both of his hands around Kuro’s biceps but refrained from pinning his older soulmate again. “I’ve clearly upset you somehow, but I’m not really following what you’re saying.” Keith’s gaze had the same intensity as before, his eyes like lavender fire but no longer as hostile as when he’d first confronted his partner. “This is more Lance’s thing than mine. I didn’t even know I’d upset you. Is that why you haven’t been switching as much lately? Am I making you guys feel scared?” Keith looked vaguely panicked, “Fuck, the knife probably didn’t help make you feel safe either...fucking stupid…” Keith quickly trailed off into mumbling to himself.

Kuro shook his head, “Keith you aren’t scaring anyone. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Keith looked doubtful his eyes scanning over the oozing cuts across his soulmates face. “I hurt you,” He said as if noticing the cuts for the first time. He reached up to run his fingers over the cut ignoring the way his chest got tight with excitement at the sight of blood and focusing on the soul-crushing feeling of pushing his soulmate away from him.

Kuro ignored his instinct to jerk away from the touch and leaned his face into Keith’s hand. Pressing a quick kiss to the Korean man’s thumb as it brushed past his lips, “I couldn’t give a shit about the fucking cut. I did it myself anyway.” Kuro closed his eyes to avoid looking at his soulmate making his voice as soft as he could manage. Impossible for Keith to be able to hear, “I just wish you loved me.” There it was at least out of his head and into reality. The whole reason he had been avoiding Keith in the first place. He hated the way Keith had looked at him. Searching for comfort when Lance had been captured and had found him. A fucked up person wearing the skin of his soulmate. It hurt. Hurt more than he’d been willing to admit even to himself when Keith had asked where Shiro was. How Keith had tried to be understanding when Kuro had explained that Shiro had been scared and overwhelmed and had retreated into himself but Kuro could still see the disappointment in his eyes. Keith loved Shiro. Loved Shiro enough to never pressure Kuro or Gure to switch for him. Understood that Shiro had developed this safety mechanism long before Keith had even known what a soulmate was.

But that didn’t mean he liked the two of them. Gure was easy to love. He was essentially a child the child that Shiro himself had never gotten the chance to be. He was difficult to understand at first. Quiet and standoffish but still as innocent and impressionable as the three of them had been before they had split. But Kuro was different. He wasn't like Gurē. He wasn't a time capsule personality into what Shiro had been like before the incident. No Kuro was a defense mechanism and an asshole of a defense mechanism at that. A defense mechanism that twisted a loving boy who grew into a justice-seeking man into a monster. Kuro was four year old Shiro's fight or flight response. Was Shiro's desire for revenge and retribution and Shiro's hatred for the police. Kuro was a sign of pain and trauma that had occurred so young that Shiro had splintered himself in pieces to deal with. Kuro was a living sign of everything that Lance and Keith had wished never happened to Shiro. But Kuro was also a person. Well as much of a person as an alter could be. He hated sashimi and loved the theatre. He was allergic to strawberries even though neither Gurē or Shiro were. Preferred cardio to weight lifting and, contrary to Lance's belief that Gurē did it, forced the three of them to attend a weekly yoga class on Thursday evenings. But Keith and Lance never saw that. He would always be the baggage that merely came with loving Shiro.

It had been easier before the three of them had met. It was easy enough to pretend that the ‘I love yous’ were universal. Harder when you met them face to face and your soulma-no Shiro’s soulmates they had never been his- looked at you with so much pity and sadness.

But Kuro was being selfish. Knew he was being selfish. At the end of the day, he wasn't his own person. He was the fucked up part of Shiro that never should have existed to begin with. He was here for dealing with Shiro's life when Shiro himself couldn't. Not to muck it all up with his feelings on the matter.

“Keith,” Kuro started again. Struggling to push aside his own hangups, “I’m sorry I’ve been cagey lately. I know it must be hard to not have Shiro around right now.” Keith seemed surprised hand still stroking over Kuro’s injured cheek, “You aren’t scaring us. Shiro is just upset about Lance getting captured we…” Kuro debated rather his input on the matter would even mean anything to Keith, “We’re all upset about Lance getting captured. However, that was no excuse for my rudeness.” Kuro hoped he sounded genuine he didn’t like hurting Keith but he had found some satisfaction in it. However fucked that may have been. “I’ll try to be more available until Shiro retakes control.”

“I just want to know you’re staying safe.” Keith sighed. “I don’t want you getting hurt.” Didn’t want to get Shiro hurt.

“Don’t worry,” Kuro smiles, “I was created by Shiro to keep us safe. I wouldn’t let any harm come to us.” Even if Kuro sometimes wanted too. But Shiro and Gure didn’t deserve that.

Keith seemed pleased with the answer though. Pressing a kiss to Kuro’s forehead in thanks. “Thank you, Kuro.”

Kuro wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist selfishly drinking up the affection Keith was offering him. Hoarding the memory for himself and shoving it as far back into his own memory as he could. He didn’t want Gurē or Shiro to have access to this. This was for him. Just for him. Not for Gurē's lonely days. Not for Shiro when he was having a panic attack. This was his.

“We,” I, “love you,” Kuro breathed out. Trying to comfort Keith as best he could.

“I love you too,” Keith responded warmly pressing his face into Kuro’s neck.

Kuro just wished he believed him.

They stayed like that for a long time. Kuro murmuring words of reassurance and comfort into Keith’s hair. As the orange sunset bled into the living room from the wide windows. They stayed there until Kuro had no more words to say and Keith had finally fully relaxed against his chest. The stress of the weeks since Lance’s capture bleeding out of his body in a way that no amount of killing had managed to do before.

But of course, no good thing lasts forever.

When the living room tv flickered on and Pidge’s face appeared. Kuro contemplated if his life would ever get easier.

“Uh, sorry if I’m interrupting.” They murmured after finally spotting them amidst the wreckage of the flat. “But, something just happened that I think you two should know about.”

Keith moved away from Kuro and Kuro tried to ignore how much it hurt. “What happened?” Keith was back to business immediately all traces of the fear and anger he’d had earlier in the evening disappearing. although his hand on Kuro's face continued to linger running over the cut as if in a silent apology.

Pidge sighed scratching their neck in a nervous gesture Kuro could recall seeing Matt do many times during their time together in the army. “Well, I want to start with the fact that if I even suspected this was gonna happen. That I would of let you know.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed as he waited for the other lion to finish.

“Well uh, the prison may have kinda….exploded.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know if you have any suggestions for the series or things you want elaborated on within the world I'm forming. 
> 
> Also if you're curious about my decision regarding relationships in the last chapter. I have reached a verdict on what I'm going to do, but I won't spoil it here. You'll just have to wait and see how things develop.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. If you enjoyed it please let me know in the comments or just leave kudos if you're shy. They really help motivate me to write!


	3. Honeysuckle Scented Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen guys it's 6:00 in the morning. I don't have a lot to say right now. I'll probably update this chapter with better coherency later today. I just needed to get this chapter out. But, regardless here is chapter three. Interestingly enough it was not the sex in this chapter that stumped me. Which it usually is because there are so many limbs and feelings happening and then I have to look up porn in order to make sure what I write is actually possible and makes sense. Yes I watch porn for educational purposes. But, what stumped me this time was just writing Keith. He is the one character who just alludes me all the time...Regardless enjoy the story and make sure you check my end notes for info about someone who drew art for this story. 
> 
> Drinking game!  
> Every time someone get's interrupted while talking take a shot! (Please don't it happens a lot)
> 
> WARNING-This chapter contains porn. You have been warned.
> 
> Note:Currently unbeta read because it's 6:00 in the morning. Tags will also be updated tomorrow

When Lance first heard the explosion. His first thought was that his soulmates had terrible timing for a rescue mission. His second thought was that it couldn’t be a rescue because he would have been alerted. His third thought didn’t have time to develop before he started choking.

 

Taz groaned as Lance gagged around his cock. Winding his big meaty fingers through Lance’s hair to keep him from backing away.  He seemed to be turned on by the tears that welled up in Lance’s eyes as his throat fluttered around the fat head of his dick.

 

“Did you hear that?” Taz grinned rutting his hips into Lance’s face. “That’s my escape ticket baby. Got word this morning about a team sent to break me and my family out of this shithole.” He pulled Lance off his cock admiring the flush in his cheeks and the tears that leaked from his eyes.

 

Lance’s brain was working a mile a minute. How had he not heard about this? How had none of the members of Voltron heard about this? Pidge had eyes and ears everywhere. If they knew about a break in Lance knew he would have heard about it.

 

Taz languidly dragged his hand over his cock. His beady eyes locked on Lance’s who followed the pace of his hand with dramatized eagerness and shuddered as Lance seemed to subconsciously lick his lips, “Such an eager slut aren’t you, Miguel?” He chuckled and began to pump himself harder. Eager to see the ex-prostitute covered in his seed. “How would you like to come with me, baby? You’d never have to worry about working the streets again.”

 

Lance resisted the urge to roll his eyes. What kind of sex god did they guy think he was? Sure the offer of not having to work the streets might have been tempting to him when he still worked as a prostitute but not at the risk of becoming some random gang members whore. Unless that random gang member was Shiro or Keith. He might have been persuaded then

 

But Lance wasn’t a prostitute anymore and while he wasn’t either of his soulmates. Taz wasn’t some random gang member either. He was related to the actual head of the Balmeran gang. Lance could hardly think of an easier way to sneak inside the heart of Balmeran operations than through him.

 

“You’d do that for me?” Lance smiled up at the man leaning forward to nuzzle at the Balmarans weeping cock with his cheek, “Break me out and keep me off the streets?” He breathed out, tracing the thick vein along the side of Taz’s shaft before bobbing forward to slather his glans with his tongue.

 

Taz groans, throwing his head back and clutching a fistful of chestnut hair in his grasp, “Yes, you’d be one of us.” He pants, “A gorgeous little slut to keep us company. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

 

Hook

 

“Yes, sir!” Lance whines, “I’ll be so good for you.” He stared up at the gruff man with adoration, “I don’t want to be here anymore…” he bit his lip letting his eyes fill with glassy tears. “It’s so scary here. No one can protect me like you can.” He leaned down to mouth eagerly at the larger man’s balls.

 

“Don’t worry baby. You’ll be safe with us.” He groaned and dragged Lance away from him, “Open up Miguel, I wanna cum on the pretty face of yours.”

 

Line

 

Lance eagerly shifted back on his heels, holding his hands up under his chin to catch any strings that may miss his face. He opened his mouth as wide as he could manage, tongue lolling out in the way that he knew made him look debauched and lewd.

 

Taz groaned his hand speeding over his cock. His eyes pinned on Lance’s face as he finally came. The first shot formed an almost graceful arc over Lance’s eyebrow and down across his shut right eye. The second one raced over the Cuban man’s nose and upper lip but the last shot hit home covering the ex-prostitutes tongue and chin in a bitter, white slurry of seed.

 

Lance practically purred as the last few dribbles were rubbed directly onto his tongue. Quickly reaching up to wipe the other man’s cum from his face to shove into his mouth with the rest of Taz’s release. He moaned eagerly around his own cum stained fingers swallowing the others load down with an auditory gulp. Before letting his tongue drag all over his fingers as he searched for every last drop. Vaguely in the distance, he thought he heard the sound of opening gunfire. But that didn’t matter now.

 

“You like the way that tastes slut?”  Taz laughed but didn’t wait for Lance’s response. He reached down tugging the smaller prisoner to his feet before tucking his now flaccid  dick back into his pants, “We’ll have more fun later…” he let his eyes rove over Lance lecherously, “But for now, we need to get the hell out of here.”

 

Sinker

 

“Of course Sir,” Lance nodded watching as Taz quickly left the closet they’d snuck off too after making sure Lance was actually planning to follow him.

 

Lance sighed, running a hand through his hair and taking a moment to readjust his rumpled clothing. God he fucking hated that man. Too demanding. Thought his cock was a gift from the heavens themselves. He couldn’t wait to see what Keith and Shiro would do to the man. They’d probably make him watch too. Keith always had more fun with an audience. He doubted it would even hurt them that much after the transfer of power. The Balmeran gang members would have more to worry about with their change in administration than someone who had been a B rank leader of a dead system of power. Taz gave himself to much credit.

 

But, he supposed Taz was right about one thing. He left the room quickly. Unphased by the utter warpath that the prison had become beyond the closet door. He did like the way he tasted.

 

Tasted like victory.

 

XxX

 

Hunk wasn’t bloodthirsty, he didn’t crave power. He wasn’t trying to get revenge either. Despite his soulbond to Lance he had never felt practically pressured to do anything illegal. He had never killed anyone. He didn’t even steal, got him all sweaty and anxious just thinking about it. The worst thing Hunk had ever really done was share a blunt with Lance when he felt swamped in high school or well swamped at work now. But, hell smoking was becoming more accepted anyway so he really wasn’t doing anything that bad. Except well that. But, he didn’t really consider it to be a bad thing and it technically wasn’t even illegal. It was just a…difference in culture.

 

So why was he here? Because it was easy? Because he knew no one in Voltron would judge him? Because it was the only way to keep both his Moms safe and from being suspected for their ‘taboo’ behavior?  Because he felt responsible for simultaneously keeping Lance, and subsequently both his soulmates, happy and safe? In the end, Hunk knew it was all of those things, and that even if he had joined with noble intentions it wasn’t really like that anymore. Hunk just liked his work. It was fun to make new things and if those new things happened to be universal lockpicks and bullets that could pierce through bulletproof vests well...that was mostly a side note. And while it hadn’t been his initial motivation, watching the way Lance bounced around in excitement at getting to test a new fully automatic or how Pidge would go wide-eyed every time Hunk made them a new PC for browsing the dark web made Hunk happier than anything else had ever made him.

 

In the end, Hunk was glad Lance had managed to drag him into his crazy scheme. However much he’d protested in the beginning.

 

XxX

 

Hunk had long since learned to merely roll with the punches when it came to his platonic soulmate. Lance was a complete enigma to Hunk even after knowing him for thirteen years of his life. Hunk has a panic attack about not having enough money for gas and Lance hands him three hundred dollars? Don’t ask, just thank him. Lance shows up at his parent’s bakery after going missing for two weeks? Just be glad he’s back, you never know if he will next time. Lance promises to handle the bullies that mock him for having two moms? Don’t think about how they ended up in jail for dealing heroin. It’s better if you can’t come up with an association.

 

But even after all these years. This....was harder to just roll with.

 

Lance had shown up at the bakery at precisely 2:52 am. The pelting rain causing the shaky writing on his right forearm reading ‘Hunk come open the door I need your help’ to run in swirls of black ink. “Hunk?” He seemed almost surprised to see him blue lion mask pushed high up onto his forehead. Even though Hunk could clearly see the buttery yellow of his own response on Lance’s left bicep half of it obscured by the dark spill of crimson blood.

 

Oh.

 

“What happened to him?” Lance didn’t respond, shouldering Hunk out of the way and cradling Keith closer to his chest. From what Hunk could tell he seemed to have passed out. His usually pale skin looking almost sickly in the shadows of the unlit house and the illumination of the occasional bolt of lightning.

 

“Hunk right?” He jolted swinging his head to look back out the front-door where Shiro was still standing outdoors his two-tone hair plastered to the front of the black mask still obscuring his face by the force of the monsoon that was the outdoors.

 

“Don’t just stand out there!” Hunk yanked the larger man in and wow okay harder than he thought. He was used to pulling Lance around who was significantly lighter than the human equivalent of a tank he had as a boyfriend. Hunk quickly shut the door behind them, buried his head in his hands and sighed, “It’s way too late for this. Early? Is it officially morning yet?”

 

“I apologize for the intr-” Shiro was cut off by Hunk raising a hand to stop him, “Don’t worry about it but uh…” Hunk looked back into the dining area of the bakery unsurprised to see that Lance and Keith had already disappeared upstairs. “Let’s head upstairs okay? My parent’s room is in the back and I don’t want to wake them.”

 

Shiro nodded and pulled the mask from his face and hooking it onto the belt that accompanied his suit. Hunk thought he glimpsed the handle of a pistol but he quickly looked away. Nope, there was no gun in his house if he never actually acknowledged its presence. He led the way behind the counter their path barely highlighted by the LED’s lighting the vacant pastry cases. Hunk tried to subtly look back at the Japanese man to figure out how he was feeling but his face was almost impossible to read. He didn’t seem overly worried but his brows were furrowed as though he was deep in thought. What on earth had happened?

 

Lance barely glanced up when Shiro and Hunk entered the room. His lips moving silently as he whispered something into his soulmate’s ear. Keith was awake now. His pupils blown wide with pain and adrenaline. The two were sitting on the floor underneath Hunk’s window bench. Keith leaning back into Lance’s chest and Lance’s arms draped around his waist.

 

Hunk crossed the room nervously before crouching in front of the pair, “Hey, uh I’m pretty sure we have a med kit in the bathroom and I learned how to stitch up a wound with dental floss in my survival health class in my high-school class.

 

“Great, that’s exactly what I want.” Keith grunted out grimacing in pain, “A stranger I don’t know with no medical background stitching up my wounds.”

 

Ouch, valid concerns but he was just trying to be nice.

 

“Hey, no bitching.” Lance scolded, “He just wants to help and it’s not like we can take you to a hospital.” Keith grumbled before sucking in a deep breath and forcing himself upward.

 

Four things occurred at once. Keith let out a gasp of pain. Lance scrambled to stop Keith from moving. Shiro bolted across the room nearly knocking Hunk over in his haste and Hunk scrambled away from the sudden swarm of attention between the three soulmates.

 

“Uh. I’m gonna go grab that medkit now.” Hunk quickly bolted toward the bathroom. Sighing with relief as the door clicked shut behind him.

 

“Keith, I understand that you’re upset and want to prove that you can handle this yourself but please.” Hunk could hear Shiro through the door as he squatted down to look through the cabinet under the sink, “We just want to help.”

 

Hunk couldn’t make out Keith’s response as he plucked the white bag emblazoned with a bright Red Cross from the back of the cabinet. Hunk was glad for once that his Tīna had always been so paranoid about him or his mom getting hurt. He quickly crawled back out of the cabinet and rose to his feet but as he reached for the handle he heard Keith hiss.

 

“I hate this. Look Lance I know he’s your soulmate but I can’t stand that the first time he meets me he I look like this. What is he going to think huh? How am I supposed to provide for you if I get shot all the time?”

 

“Provide for me? What decade do you exist in mullet.” Lance snorted and Hunk could practically see the eye roll and smirk combo that he usually gave in response to anyone’s worry. “Hunk just wants me to be happy. Just like you two. Jesus, I know you and Shiro don’t have platonic mates but it’s not like he’s gonna bite your head off.”

 

When Hunk stepped back in the room Keith and Lance were staring each other down

 

“Uh for what it’s worth,” Hunk gulped as Keith turned to glare at him his scowl noticeably deepening, “I think you trying to sit up was proof enough that you're a strong ass dude. I would have passed out for sure by now. If you want I can just leave you guys here with the medkit and uh dental floss.”

 

“Hunk dude, It’s ok-” Hunk once again held up his hand to stop Lance from speaking.

 

“Naw man, Keith and I have never met before. I’m sure this is embarrassing for him especially since I’m technically still just a kid and your best friend. Besides…” Hunk flushed and reached up to sheepishly rub the back of his neck, “I just realized that Shiro probably knows more about this than I do anyway what with being in the military and all.”

 

Shiro himself seemed to have realized that himself as he had already sliced a hole in Keith’s to get a better look at the wound. His head bent over the gushing wound as he assessed the injury.

 

“No.”

 

Keith batted Shiro’s hands away and struggled to sit up again. “Lance is right.”

 

“I am?”

 

“He is?”

 

Lance and Hunk both blinked and glanced at each other in confusion. But Shiro just grins quickly pressing a kiss to Keith’s cheek before moving out of the way.

 

Keith huffed and crosses his arms, “You’re Lance’s soulmate too. I know I can trust you. And you’re a good guy. I mean you’d have to be to put up with that all by yourself.” Keith gestures over his shoulder and ignores the way Lance huffs, “You’re part of this ‘family’ we have even if I don’t know you that well. And so,” Keith sighs, “I want you to take care of my wounds. Sure Shiro can do it but I want to learn to trust you as well.”

 

Hunk was stunned, “O-okay if you really want me too.”

 

Hunk hesitantly stepped forward unsurprised when it caused the Korean man to tense. Keith may have agreed to let Hunk help him but it was clear that the older man still didn’t trust him. Keith reminded Hunk a lot of his Tīna. There was something wild to him like he was raised as an animal instead of as a human. Like he was used to a world much harsher than the streets of Chicago. A world where even someone as totally uneducated in fighting as himself could actually pose a threat.

 

Hunk approached the trio like he would when his Tīna was stressed. His hands open and relaxed at his side save for his thumb and forefinger that held the med kit in his grasp. His shoulders slumped forward to try and eliminate some of the height difference even if it was basically impossible with Keith sitting on the floor. He kept his eyes averted from Keith’s face and instead locked eyes with Lance whose eyebrows were furrowed in worry. His lip caught between his teeth as he glanced between Keith and Hunk. It was strange. Hunk had never believed he would actually put any of his Tīna’s training into practice beyond satisfying her need for Hunk to be educated in his native customs. But here he was in an admittedly different situation than his Tīna probably expected using every trick he knew to look as unthreatening as possible. Hunk slowly shifted to put the medkit on the floor next to Keith’s legs pausing only when Keith visibly tensed. Keith did eventually relax. Allowing Hunk to settle in front of him and hesitatingly inspect the wound.

 

A bullet wound. Shot straight through the meat of Keith’s thigh. Luckily it didn’t look like the bullet had hit Keith’s femur so there was no sign of shattered or chipped bone but his whole thigh was tacky with blood. The wound itself was still weeping blood, but much more sluggish than Hunk had first anticipated.

 

Hunk opened the med kit with a click. Sparing Keith an apologizing smile when he flinched. “Easy.” Lance coos taking Keith’s hand in his own and smoothing his free hand over Keith’s abs in soothing circles, “We’ve got you. Shiro and I will take care of you.” His voice was soft in a way Hunk had only heard when he was having a panic attack. It almost made Hunk uncomfortable how easily it settled the Korean man and Hunk wondered if this was one of the innate abilities of soulmates or if Lance was just good at knowing how to calm people.

 

He rummaged through the kit. Eventually pulling out a small unmarked bottle of clear liquid, a poultice of crushed herbs, a thick wad of gauze, and a needle already threaded with floss.

 

“What is that.” Keith nodded his head toward the bottle and poultice. His free hand having been stolen by Shiro as his larger soulmate settled on the other side of Keith’s legs.

 

“The poultice is for dressing the wound. It’s a mix my Tīna makes for big wounds. We’ve never used it on a gunshot wound before. We’ve mostly just used it for big scrapes and when my Mom sliced open her palm and refused to go to the hospital. But, uh the logic should still apply. I’m not completely sure what’s all in it besides some mile-a-minute weeds and cucumber leaves. Oh, probably some chili pepper in there too. As for the bottle well,” Hunk locks eyes with Lance, thankful that the Cuban man seems to understand as he quickly shifts his arm around Keith to hold him tight against his chest, “It’s full of rubbing alcohol. It’ll hurt but we need to make sure we clean out the wound before I try and stitch it up.”

 

Keith nods before suddenly scowling and slamming his elbow into Lance’s side, “What the fuck did you think I’d run away!” Lance yelps and tried to jerk away. “No!...okay maybe. Listen, man, you don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to normal responses to things.”

 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

 

“I just mean.” Lance shoots Shiro a desperate look but the Japanese man shakes his head refusing to join in on the conversation, “You’re just unpredictable sometimes Keith. You once threw a knife at Gūre cause he woke you up. It took me three hours to make him stop crying, three.”

 

Shiro groaned and buried his face in his hands, “Can we not bring that up please.”

 

Keith shot Shiro an apologetic look, “I’m still so sorry about tha-“

 

“Let’s just not talk about it okay.”

 

“Regardless this is nowhere near the same thing.” Keith huffed, “I’m not a fucking animal I know how to clean wou-“ Keith hissed as Hunk suddenly started to pour the rubbing alcohol over the wound thankful that both Lance and Shiro had been paying enough attention to hold the Korean man down.

 

Hunk flashed a weak smile at Keith as he glared down at him, “Sorry man, seemed like a good idea to start when you were distracted.” Hunk was glad the bullet had gone straight through Keith’s thigh. Trying to fish out a bullet would have been hell. With the blood mostly washed off by the alcohol, the wound looked much less terrifying. The skin around the entrance wound, and presumably the exit wound, was already bruised a dusky purple but other than that it was just a...well a hole. A hole in his friend’s leg that should definitely be seen by a trained medical professional and not a seventeen-year-old in his bedroom. Hunk gulped now was not the time to be panicking about his lack of expertise. Even if Hunk wished Lance and Shiro had taken Keith to a medical professional instead of him they hadn’t. Which probably meant this was related to the gang Hunk had desperately hoped was just a fucked up fantasy of Lance’s and not an actual thing he had dragged his soulmates into. The same gang he’d told Lance he wanted nothing to do with. Those masks certainly didn’t feel like having nothing to do with the gang not if the media was even remotely accurate. Don’t think about it Hunk. Don’t.

 

By the time the wound had been successfully stitched up and carefully dressed in the poultice and gauze Hunk was pretty sure he had lost twenty years off of his life. “Alright. You should probably change out the dressing every few hours and uh.” Hunk spared a glance at Shiro, “Shiro should probably do that considering he knows the most of the three of you. I’ll give you guys the rest of the poultice to keep with you and try and my Tīna to prepare more for you tomorrow.”

 

Shiro reached out and squeezed Hunk’s shoulder. “Thank you for this Hunk. It means the world to us.”

 

Hunk shook his head, “I didn’t do anything that you three couldn’t have figured out yourselves. Other than the poultice which probably isn’t any better than anything you could have got a prescription for.”

 

“But, we couldn’t have gotten a prescription for it.” Shiro corrected, “So thank you.”

Later that night. When Keith had finally drifted off to sleep. Lance had grabbed Hunk by the arm and tugged him into the bathroom to speak with him privately.

 

“Hunk-”

 

“I know what you’re going to ask and the answer is still no Lance.”

 

Lance frowned, “Why not? Hunk you helped us so much tonight. If you’d join us I know you would change things. Voltron needs you Hunk. Having Pidge around has expedited our progress significantly but not enough to really keep us out of danger. Right now, every gang across the goddamn country knows who we are but we aren’t strong enough. Not yet. The fucking Galra police are trying to squash us out before we blossom. The Balmera are constantly hounding us since they own most of Chicago. Hell, even the public has their eyes on us. Not because they fear us though but because they want to watch us die.” Lance spit the words out like they were poison, “This country thinks we’re a fucking circus show.” Lance had taken to pacing now three steps to the bathtub and back to the door, over and over again, “We need an edge. Shiro can lead an army. Pidge can collect as much information as they want. Keith can threaten a million people. Hell, I could recruit half the state. But it means nothing. Nothing. Until we have a means to support ourselves; protect ourselves. We have to make America need us. Fear us.  Or we’re gone.” He stopped in front of his soulmate, “Hunk, buddy. We need you.”

 

“Listen, Lance.” Hunk sighed and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. “I love you, bro. You know that. You’re my soulmate. My only soulmate. But, I’m not cut out for this kind of crap. I know you think I am. That you think this will help my parents and I hide from the government or whatever hero’s fantasy you’ve cooked up. But, I won’t be happy in that kind of life. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to ever have to make the choice to kill another human being. I know this is what you want. That you’ve always wanted power and that you thrive off of it. But, I can’t be the same kid who followed you around like when we were kids. There are a million people out there who could be the fifth head of Voltron.”

 

“None of them are you.” Lance grabbed his soulmates tattooed hands, “Do you remember when we were 15 and we had that stupid fucking chemistry lab together.”

 

“Lance I don’t see how this-”

 

“You built a bomb in that class.” Lance interrupted eagerly, “You acted like you didn’t know what you were doing but I know you better than anyone else in the world. You apologized so many times. You even cried but the look on your face when it exploded. When you actually made it work. You can mask that with guilt as much as you want but you were excited. How many hours did it take you to figure that out huh? Not as many as anyone else I know. I’ve talked to other people already cemented in the underground. I’ve talked to so-called geniuses and engineers but none of them matched up to what I know you can do. You looked at the chemicals given to fucking ninth graders and you made a bomb strong enough to blow through the table. You’re my soulmate for a reason Hunk. I don’t believe in any god or religion but I know that I wasn’t paired with a serial killer and a man with a vendetta against the police for no reason. In your religion, Tagaloa created soulmates from the same worm. From the same matter. That’s what you believe. How could you be created from the same matter as me and yet be as different as you believe from me? Imagine what you could create without limitations. Hunk we could get you anything you could ever possibly want and you know what that would do for Voltron. For me. Keith could have died tonight. I could have died tonight. We need to become stronger. Otherwise, we’re just another American gang. It’s your inventions that can give us that edge. If we rule the market we can rule the country. America is a world of capitalism and that goes double for the underground. If we can offer something no one else can. We win. Checkmate.”

 

“Lance...you’ll find another engineer. Another lion. And, I know that they’ll be exactly what you need them to be. You’re just stuck on me because of who I am. Not what I can do. In a perfect world, I would want this. Would want that kind of life. But, I don’t Lance. I just want to be a normal engineer. With a normal life and a normal family.”

 

“And a normal soulmate?” Lance raised an eyebrow at Hunk as he frantically tried to backtrack, “You don’t want that Hunk. I believe that you think you do and I’m not going to force you. But you're in too deep Hunk and I know you know that much. Even if I left now. Never made contact with you ever again. Let you live this normal life without me. And we both know it would have to be without me because I’d just put you in danger. You’d always know who I am. Who all of us are. You’d be the only innocent person in the entire world to know exactly who the Blue Lion is. The only one to know that the Green Lion has a brother. The only one that knows that the Black Lion is a Japanese ex-soldier. The only one who had the fucking Red Lion bleeding out in their goddamn bedroom. Could you live knowing that?”

 

“I’m sorry Lance.” Hunk stood back up and pulled the Cuban into a tight hug, “I don’t want you to leave Lance. I want to be your soulmate. I want to be your best friend but please. I can’t do this.”

 

Lance sighed and buried his face in Hunk’s shoulder, “Okay. I’ll stop pushing. I just...I know it’s you. It has to be. I just hope someday you’ll believe me.”

 

Hunk sighed and rubbed Lance’s back soothingly. And if Hunk could feel the wet warmth of tears seeping into the collar of his shirt he wasn’t gonna mention it.

 

Eventually, Lance stepped away from him. Turning away to avoid looking Hunk in the eye. “We’ll be gone by the time the sunrises. I promise.”

 

“Lance that’s not nec-”

 

“Goodnight Hunk.”

 

When Hunk woke the next morning. There was no sign that Lance or either of his soulmates had ever been there. No blood from bullet wounds. The med kit was in the back of sink cabinet as it had been before they’d arrived. Even the blankets and pillows that Hunk had pulled from his window seat were neatly folded and placed on top of each other in the exact order they had been in before he’d taken them out. Everything was so immaculate Hunk was almost willing to believe he’d dreamed it all. When he saw it.

 

On his desk. Carefully placed on top of Hunk’s still unmailed college application was a mask. The mask was perfectly designed for Hunk’s face so that when he slipped it on out of curiosity it felt like he was wearing a perfectly tailored suit except well for his face. It was beautiful like all the Voltron masks were. Its mane was longer than any of the other masks had been and it twisted out like spires of a painted sun that curled back into themselves and out again into an elegant mess that gives the mask an almost renaissance look. The whole mask was painted in a shimmering hue of bright gold with a white muzzle similar to the Black Lion’s mask. Streaks of white fur fading into gold around the mask's eyes with matching fur spiraling out of the lion’s ears.

 

Hunk couldn’t bear to throw it away.

XxX

Hunk sighed reaching up to pull his hair up into a loose ponytail. Before leaning back over the table. The pistol was a different make then he was used too. Probably imported from France since he didn’t recognize it. He had finally resorted to picking the whole gun apart after trying to simply remove the parts he needed quickly and nearly broke the whole thing. Converting it from semi-automatic to automatic should not have been this difficult. Maybe he needed to start working in the warehouse some more he was losing his touch.

 

“Makai! Makai, you’ll never guess what I just heard.” Hunk blinked and quickly wheeled around in his chair.

 

“Miya? Did you run all the way here?” Miya had been the only real friend Hunk had made during his time undercover as a member of the Balmera. She was much shorter than Hunk at only 5’0” and loved to work with machines almost as much as he did.

 

She quickly breezed into Hunk’s closet-sized room and sat on his bed kicking her feet back in forth in excitement, “Okay, okay so remember when you first got here and you had all those bullshit hoops to jump through.”

 

“You mean the three most terrifying months of my life. Yeah, yeah I remember quite vividly.” Mostly because the terrifying part was how Pidge had ground 19 years worth of fake history into his head.

XxX

“If you fuck this up” They’d said, “We could be set back months. I’ve done the hard part of making up all this shit and making all sorts of legal documents to cover your ass you have the easy part. Remembering it. Oh and by the way…” They’d said tugging Hunk down so they were eye level, “If you fuck this up for us I will kill you.” They had stared unblinkingly into Hunk’s soul before cracking a grin, “Just kidding. But I will make your life a living hell. This scheme has been a pain in my ass for fucking months.’

XxX

 

“Well,” Miya grinned, “I know your big bargaining chip had been all those insider details you’d had when you had been working for Voltron but I never actually thought you knew all that much.” She was leaning in like she had a big secret, “But apparently I underestimate you. Today’s September ninth, ring any bells.”

 

It rang a lot of bells. Mostly about how long he’d been undercover and the fact that Lance usually did recruitment around this time of year but he doubted that was what Miya was getting at. September ninth. Things he had told the Balmera about Voltron…”Uh, I think the yellow division had a shipment going out today.” Well, every day but that wasn’t the point.

 

“Exactly!” Miya squealed in excitement, “But not just any shipment, a C4 shipment.”

 

Hunk sighed, “Did you really come all the way to my side of the workshop because you’re excited that we get to mess around with explosives sometime soon.”

 

Miya shook her head rapidly like a dog that had gotten rained on, “No, no, no, no. Although, that is awesome. So apparently a member of the bossman’s family, not anyone I’ve ever heard of but you know how important family is here,  was locked up in the prison at the edge of downtown. You know the one that the Galra fucking guard like hawks.” Hunk slowly nodded and Miya leaned in as if to tell him a secret, “We blew it up.” She whispers practically vibrating where she sat, “With C4 stolen from Voltron. C4 you helped let the rest of us in on. Do you know what this means?”

 

It meant Hunk was getting a headache was what it meant, “Uh, I helped out on a bigger scale than I thought I would?”

 

“No silly. Who cares about that.” Miya rolled her eyes, “It means that you helped with an inter-family conflict for the head of the Balmera himself. I know you didn’t grow up here but you know how big family is here. You’re gonna be moving up in the world I just know it. Oh, Makai your days of a small cramped closet/work room/bedroom are going to be over.” Her eyes went wide, “Maybe you’ll be like my boss or something. That would be so awesome! I could actually like not want to die every time I have to turn in my diagrams if that happened. You know what I’m gonna call this ‘the success of action blow up Oliver Heights Prison’ not exactly catchy but it’s a work in progress…”

 

Hunk tuned the rest of what Miya was saying out, he recognized that name. Oliver Heights Prison, the name of the prison Lance was currently stuck in until Pidge, Keith, and Shiro could figure out a safe way to get him out without alerting the Balmera. Hunk resisted the urge to look at his arms for any writing he’d missed from Lance. Surely he was okay. Lance wouldn’t die from a stupid C4 explosion that would be stupid...Lance was much too dramatic to die from something like that.

 

He needed to get in contact with the other Lions like yesterday. He needed to know that Lance was safe.

 

“Makai, are you okay?” Miya had stopped rambling now and was looking at Hunk with concern, “Your kinda pale, big guy. Did you eat some bad tuna for lunch or…”

 

“I’m fine Miya this is just...a lot to take in at once.”

 

Miya frowned and opened her mouth as if to say something when she was interrupted.

 

“Makai?” Both Hunk and Miya turned to look at the tall women in the doorway. She was a beautiful black woman. With a soft halo of chocolate covered curls accenting her heart-shaped face. She seemed a little uncomfortable at interrupting their conversation as she fiddled nervously with the olive green edges of her shorts. She was gigantic, probably rivaling Shiro in height and her chest was probably equally as broad. Though significantly less intimidating as she was wearing a baby pink crop top that had a kitten face on it instead of the usual business suit that Shiro wore. “I’m sorry if I interrupted you two.” She gave the two of them a small awkward smile. “My name is Shay. My brother wants to meet with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I really hope you're enjoying the story so far. I actually intended to have more happen in this chapter but then the flashback just sort of....exploded in length. Also, I have a playlist on spotify I listen to while writing so if you guys are interested I can post the link to it in the next chapter. Some of the songs may be kind of spoilers though...maybe I'll just remove those. Or not? We'll see~
> 
> Important!  
> Someone made fan-art for this story. I love it so much. Please look at it I promise you won't be disappointed!
> 
> https://phiantetry-art.tumblr.com/post/176272077117/so-this-is-some-fanart-for-blackblooddoomwolfs?is_highlighted_post=1
> 
> Also while looking this up I also noticed more fan art for this story which I hadn't even realized had been made yet! #blessed
> 
> https://phiantetry-art.tumblr.com/post/176540152667/second-lion-for-blackblooddoomwolfs-gang-au?is_highlighted_post=1
> 
> Which reminds me! If anyone wants to do fanart for this series you are more than welcome to do that! Just make sure that you credit my story if you decide to post it somewhere. (Also please consider sharing it with me it makes me like weep with joy)
> 
> As always thank you guys so much for reading! Your comments and kudos means the world to me! So please if you have the time let me know what you enjoyed about the story. Also if you have anything you want to see in the series let me know. I have a few one-shots planned for when I have motivation. So, if you have an idea I may write something about it...maybe...no promises. Writing is hard.


	4. A Bouquet a Day Keeps the Death Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I wasn't abandoning this. Just juggling writing when I can. 
> 
> A few notes before we begin.
> 
> 1) I forgot to mention in the last chapter that the religion Lance references in the last chapter was an ancient religion of people who lived in Samoa. Nobody believes in this religion really anymore (that I'm aware of) but in this story Hunk and his mothers are all still active worshipers and believers in this religion. All information I'm gathering is from scattered sources on the internet so If I get anything wrong feel free to correct me. His religion will be discussed at several points throughout the series and I'll explain on the history of it both real and totally made up by me as we go. The first bit of info about people coming from worms is based on a real legend in that religion. Look it up if you're interested!
> 
> 2) Also the herb poultice from the last chapter is made up of herbs found in Polynesia and something I put way to much effort into looking up to make sure it did what it actually does in the story.
> 
> 3) RAX is OOC like really OOC. I'm aware. He's ooc because what we see of Rax in the show is really only when he's seriously worried and pissed off so I had to come up with how he'd react when he isn't yet suspicious or angry. He'll be more in character when he experiences those emotions further in the story.
> 
> 4) There's fade to black porn in this chapter, if that makes you uncomfortable you can pretty much skip the scene that follows Shiro's flashback. Nothing really that explicit happens beyond some pretty forward fondling but just in case I'll warn you in advance.
> 
> 5) I use both theirself and themself for Pidge in this story. I use they/them pronouns and use both words interchangeably so i mirrored that here.
> 
> Thanks for putting up with the weird upload schedule enjoy!

The hospice room was relatively homey for a medical facility.

 

The bland curtains that blocked the view from the door to the rest of the room had been replaced with soft pink satin. The window sill that overlooked the small garden area in the center of the hospital was lined with flower pots filled with an array of brightly colored flowers. Daisies and sunflower bouquets each attached with tiny cards reading ‘get well soon!’ In different handwriting. Across the whiteboard where the doctors and nurses had scribbled various information was big goofy handwriting reading ‘Happy 56th birthday!’ With a tiny little picture drawn of people applauding on either side of the script. If it wasn’t for the medical equipment that filled the room and the fact that the man who staying there was unconscious, oxygen mask taped to his face and dark brown skin pale from lack of sun exposure, the room wouldn’t have felt like a hospice room at all.

 

It was clear that the man had been there for a long time as the medical equipment had been switched from its usual portable wheels and uncomfortable but more mobile bed for more permanent features that simply sat on the floor. Even the usual plastic chair that sat by the man’s bedside had been replaced with a soft armchair that was much more suited to many nights of sleeping next to the patient then the old chair had been.

 

Allura smiled as she peeked around the curtain. Her face physically relaxing once she laid eyes on the man in the bed. She pulled the curtain closed behind her and approached the patient's bedside. Her pink stilettos loud in her own ears as they disturbed the quiet harmony of the room. She sighed wistfully when she reached his bedside reaching out to gently squeeze his large brown hand in both of hers, “Hello father.”

 

Allura stares down at her father with a soft smile, “Sorry I haven't visited lately. I've had to take more shifts lately since I've moved apartments.”

 

Allura sighed as she lowered herself into the armchair still firmly clasping her father's large tan hands in her dainty manicured ones, “I can't wait for you to see the apartment! It's not much bigger than my old one but I've finally got a full kitchen to cook in and enough room in my bedroom to fit mothers vanity in comfortably.”

 

She flipped his hand in hers tracing the lines of his palm with her pinky finger, “I know I’ve told you about my job before but,” She bit her lip, “I feel like I have no choice you know. Coran doesn’t know, I know you’d probably be more upset about that then the job itself but…” Allura brushes a long strand of silver hair behind her ear, “He works so hard father. It’s not easy keeping you here and if he knew where I got my money from I...I fear he’d blame himself for it.”

 

She crossed her legs with a frown, tucking the hand not gripping her father's between her legs, “I know you won’t believe me but I’m safe there.” She gazed down at her father for a moment looking for any sign of emotion, positive, negative, it didn’t matter which. He remained motionless, “Everyone, both the employees and customers, have to turn in papers proving their clean and I’m free to refuse and take clients of my own volition. I’ve made a lot of friends at The Castle as well. I know they’d have my back if something were to go wrong. And I know what your thinking!” Allura released Alfor’s hand to lightly trace the dark navy tinted violet of her soulmates writing, “I’m sure my soulmate will understand. I-I haven't told them but I won’t be keeping it a secret if it comes up. Besides if I do write to them about it than Coran will find out as well…”

 

Allura bites her lip and frowns, “I hope you haven't been lonely in my absence. Coran promised me he comes to see you at least five times a week but I worry about you. How dreadful it must feel to be alone…”

 

Something moving in the edge of her vision distracts Allura.

 

A brown leaf had broken off from one of the many bouquets on the window sill. But her heart can't help but stutter when she realizes which bouquet it is.

 

A bouquet of beautiful blue iris. The same one Lance had always sent for as long as they’d known each other...was dying. For the first time in five years, no new bouquet had arrived to replace to old one at the turn of the month. Now it had almost been six weeks and the iris had turned brown, crusty and wilted.

 

Where was Lance? He hadn’t come to The Castle in a month and considering he now owned the place since Momma Ninette had decided to move to the tropics Allura could think of no reason why he had left.

 

Usually, he would have sent her a text by now.

 

Usually, someone else would have sent her a text by now.

 

And there should certainly be another bouquet of blue irises on that table by now.

 

“Oh, Allura!” She jerked herself out of her thoughts to look over at the redhead who'd pulled back the curtain, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight. You should have written I would have raced over as soon as I could.“

 

Allura frowned as Coran let the curtain fall shut once more, “I won’t be staying long. I have something I need to look into. I didn’t want to trouble you just for a brief chat.”

 

“Oh Allura,” Coran shakes his head and smile, “Every moment I get to spend with you is more than worth the minuscule amount of time it takes to get here.”

 

Allura smiled at him before looking back down at her father’s sleeping face, “Did everything go well while I was away?”

 

Coran reaches up to fiddle with his mustache, “Oh yes Alfor and I had a whale of a time. We played chess, got caught up on work and ate dinner together.” Coran sighed wistfully, “Or at least I did those things and he listened.”

 

Allura strokes her father hand, her fingers tracing the blue veins hidden beneath coffee flesh, “Do you think he can hear us?”

 

“Your father will always listen to you when you speak Allura. He’s been enamored by you since your first gurgle. Your mother used to tease him about how much time he spent telling you stories and asking you questions you couldn’t even answer. He can hear you Allura. I believe that more than anything else.”

 

“Thank you, Coran,” Allura could feel the sting of tears in her eyes. She clenched them closed until she felt she was safe to open them before rising from the chair, “Unfortunately I can’t stay.”

 

“So soon?” Coran frowned, “But you haven’t been here in over a week.”

 

Allura sighed, “I know but I have something I simply must look into.” Allura tucked her hair behind her ear, “Once I’m finished I promise we can go to dinner and catch up.”

 

Coran smiled and waved her off, “Oh don’t worry about an old coot like me. As long as you promise not to work too hard. I’ll be fine.”

 

Allura pulls Coran into a hug, “Nonsense. We simply must catch up.”

 

Coran pats her on the back, “Well if the Princess doth decree…”

 

Allura pulls back from the hug and laughs, “I think I’m a little old to be a princess.”

 

Coran frowns and gives her a teasingly serious look, “Now Allura as your godfather I must tell you that the title of princess is something not so easily lost. As long as you are my goddaughter you will be a precious princess. Do you understand?”

 

Allura rolls her eye and smiles, “Yes Coran.”

 

“Good,” He gives her one last quick hug before releasing her, “Now off you pop! I’ll see you on Friday for tea. Usual time?”

 

“Of course. Goodnight Coran.”

 

“Goodnight Allura.”

 

Allura quickly made her way from the room already pulling out her phone to make a call.

 

She needed to figure out where Lance was.

 

XxX

 

The door hit the wall with a slam so loud it made Matt disappear.

 

Pidge themself however, was unphased.

 

“Where are they.”

 

Keith paced across the room to the window of the interrogation room while Shiro? Pidge couldn’t tell with the mask on, followed at a more sedated pace.

 

The interrogation room was a makeshift creation that Hunk and Pidge had made in the same abandoned apartment building Pidge was currently residing in. Where two bedrooms from two separate apartments had previously shared a wall a massive hole had been busted through and replaced with a window to see into the other side. It was crude and not perfect but Shiro had fixed it up a few months back once they’d first used it. So at least the glass now fit and was at least bulletproof, for...obvious reasons.

 

Pidge frowned and kicked their feet up on the desk sitting underneath the window, “Considering the jail is a barely a block away? Can’t be long now.”

 

Keith grunted in a manner Pidge choose to interrupt as ‘Fantastic Pidge you’re so quick and effective’ and not the ‘I’m pissed they aren’t here yet’ way they were sure it was intended.

 

“When I get my hands on them…” Keith’s hands twitched toward the gun latched to his hip.

 

Pidge crossed their arms and huffed, “If we can refrain from killing my informants until I figure out what happened I’d appreciate it. Also-“ Pidge slammed their feet back down onto the ground and started fishing through a side drawer. Pulling out their own mask and settling it on their face “If you could put your mask on it would be greatly appreciated.”

 

Keith shook his head, “I want to look those sons of bitches in the eyes while I rip them open.”

 

Pidge crinkled their nose and stuck out their tongue, “Gross. What if I wanted to keep those informants.”

 

“They failed. We’ll find you better ones.” Shiro(?) placed his hand against the back of their chair and squinted at the door on the inside of the interrogation room, “They’re here.”

 

True to his word, the door creaked open and two men and a woman were quickly ushered inside before the door was slammed closed behind them.

 

Unlike an actual interrogation room, the window wasn’t one-sided allowing the men a clear view into the other side. The informants froze as soon as they registered who was looking in on them.

 

Keith sneered at the people in the interrogation room before bumping Shiro’s shoulder, “I’m going around.”

 

Shiro cocked his head in acknowledgment, his opinion on the matter unclear.

 

Pidge kicked their feet back up and let out a sigh as the door to the bedroom shut with a slam that shook the very walls, “This will be fun.” The sarcasm was particularly scathing as they tipped their head up toward the ceiling, “How much you want to bet these bastards are innocent?”

 

“How much you want to bet Red doesn’t care.”

 

“Touché.”

 

Pidge lolled their head down to peer at the informants, all fidgeting and glancing around the room. They kind of felt sorry for the bastards. No one exactly expects a prison to up and explode on them. Their job was simply to monitor the prison, who came and went and all that jazz. A supervillain grade breakout was not on the list of expectations. Unfortunately, neither of them knew that their job was a little more important than they initially let on. No one knew the blue lion was in prison. With good reason. Image was everything these days. But still. Pidge felt bad. Sort of.

 

It was also somewhat amusing.

 

The door in the interrogation room slammed open startling the three occupants of the room, who backed themselves up against the windowed wall.

 

Keith shut the door and cracked his knuckles.

 

“Well then, Who wants to start talking.”

 

XoX

 

Hunk was led down a long narrow hallway he’d never gone down before. He had been taken into an elevator, the ones he was never allowed to enter, and Shay had pressed the topmost floor nearly 30 floors above the basement he’d come to know in the last few months.

 

The two of them had ridden in silence. Hunks mind still whirling with worry for his soulmate, fear of meeting Rax, and worry over what it all meant.

 

When they’d reached the topmost floor though Shay had smiled at him before gesturing for him to follow her some more.

 

He wasn’t quite sure how to feel about her.

 

He knew who Shay was, he’d be a really crappy informant if he didn’t. Shay was practically royalty to the Balmerans. Her brother being the current ruler of the gang meant she was next in line if something were to happen to him. It also meant she probably worked behind the scenes on a lot of stuff the way the different heads of Voltron did. Gangs were rarely truly run by one person. Usually, one person was the figurehead and there were several others closely attached to the leader who helped out.

 

Shay….wasn’t what he expected at all. Hunk had learned over the years what to expect from most high ranking gang members. Cunning usually psychotic. People with no morals and a vendetta against society. Liers, killers, power-hungry narcissist. Not people like Shay.

 

She looked the part for sure. Almost the same height as Hunk with arms the size of tree trunks and a broad stature that made her take up space in a room. As if to say ‘look at me. I’m important. I’m in charge.’ She was pierced too, her septum and several cartilage piercings occasionally catching the dim light as they walked to her brother's office.

 

So she definitely looked intimidating but...well the cute kitten top kinda eliminated a lot of the initial intimidation plus from what little he’d interacted with her she seemed...shy? Anxious? It was kind of endearing if Hunk was being honest.

 

And she didn’t seem to be acting either. Hunk had gotten pretty damn good at reading deception after being friends with Lance for so long. But her behavior seemed honest.

 

The way she fiddled with her hands as she walked. Brown eyes occasionally glancing over at him before darting away as soon as he started to look back. Like a curious doe trying to figure out if he was a hunter or not.

 

It was kinda cute.

 

And bad really really bad. If any of the other lions figured out someone so high up was this timid. They’d. Well.

 

They’d probably tear her to pieces.

 

He should let the other four know about her. She was exactly the kind of thing he’d been sent undercover to find.

 

A crack in the seemingly impenetrable defenses the Balmerans' had.

 

Voltron needed to expand. Voltron was big, yes. Huge in fact. With over 2 million members across the states and growing faster than anyone knew how to handle. But Chicago was Voltron’s home and while no one knew that but the five heads. Knowing there was a rival gang so close to what was essentially your HQ was slowly driving the five of them up a wall. More from paranoia than anything else. The Balmera couldn’t be allowed to continue the way they were. If they assimilated with Voltron fine. But if they didn’t. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Voltron had wiped a rival gang off the map.

 

But still...

 

Looking at the women in front of him. He didn’t want that to happen to her.

 

Hunk could practically hear Lance scoff in his mind at his thoughts, “Eyes on the prize big guy,” he’d say with that devilish smile of his that never seemed to reach his eyes.

 

Eyes on the prize.

 

Eyes on the prize.

 

Hunk took a deep breath through his nose and sighed, he had a job to do. A mission.

 

A mission he would not fail.

 

Shay slowed to a stop outside a set of double doors, “My brother is in here.”

 

Hunk didn't really think that needed to be mentioned he knew where she was leading him.

 

Shay gave him another shy smile before reaching for the handle, “I’ll be right behind you.” She said as Hunk took his first steps into the luxurious penthouse office.

 

He wasn't sure if he was meant to find that as reassuring as he did.

 

XoX

 

There was a loud bang and blood splattered across the interrogation window.

 

“Goddammit Keith, we weren't through questioning him!” Kuro snarled.

 

“The bastard didn't know jack shit and you fucking know it.” Keith grits his teeth and pointed his gun at the other man in the room. “How about you huh? Why don't you try and explain what happened hmm?”

 

The man shuddered his brown eyes darting between the gun and his now dead companion, “I-I-I-”

 

Keith cocked the gun, “Tick tock buddy. I don't have all day.”

 

“Keith!”

 

Keith turned to stare daggers through the glass at his partner, “What Black? What could you possibly have to add to this fucking conversation.”

 

Keith could practically see his teeth grinding watching as the muscle in Kuro’s neck tensed before forcibly relaxing, “You need to calm down.”

 

“Calm down.” Keith slowly lowered the gun and pivoted to fully face the window, “Calm down!” He hisses and takes a threatening step towards the window, “CALM FUCKING DOWN!” He snarls spit flying making the shorter man looking almost rabid as he gestured wildly with the gun, “Our soulmate could be fucking dead and you want me to CALM DOWN!”

 

“We don't know if he I-”

 

“We don't know that he isn't either!”

 

“Regardless,” Kuro sighed, “We won't learn anything if you kill all the people who may know something.”

 

“Heartless bastard,” Keith snarled.

 

Kuro flinched noticeably and Keith swallowed down the guilt that instantly threatened to choke him out. Keith had no reason to feel guilty. Kuro tensed and snarled,  “Oh I’m heartless, am I? I’m not the one behaving like a child who lost his favorite toy. Oh, no Blue is gone guess I’ll kill everything around me instead of trying to fix the problem.”

 

“I am trying to fix the problem!” Keith gestures angrily at the prisoners, “But you won't let me do it!”

 

“Killing the informants isn't fixing the problem.”

 

“Would you prefer I sit on my hands like you and just wait for one of these fuckers to tell us what they did with him? He could be dead by then if he isn’t already.”

 

“I’m not sitting on my hands I’m fucking try-“

 

“Enough both of you!” Pidge slammed their hands on the desk. “Red stop trying to pin everything on Black. Black stop antagonizing him. Both of you take a fucking walk and don’t come back until you sort whatever the fuck is going on between you two out you hear me.”

 

Keith opened his mouth to protest before cursing and leaving the room with a harsh slam signaling his exit.

 

Kuro didn’t move.

 

“Shi-Kuro.” Pidge amends theirself, “You know he’s just scared and doesn’t-“

 

“Yeah,” Kuro cut them off with a sigh, “Don’t worry I know where I stand.”

 

Pidge frowned, “That’s not what I meant. You know he’d behave the same way if it were you out there.”

 

Kuro frowned, “Yeah but it wouldn’t be me he’s looking for.”

 

“Kuro-“

 

“I’m going for that walk now. Try and figure out what you can from those two while I’m gone. Don’t know if I’ll be able to calm down Keith before we get back.”

 

Kuro then turned from the blood splattered window and left the room.

 

XoX

 

Kuro could remember a time when Lance had voices his fears to Lance before. Kuro had been loading the laundry into the washing machine in their apartment while Lance chattered on idly while sitting on the dryer.

 

“So any way that’s why Allura thinks it’s a good idea to start funneling customers away from Miranda. Sure she’s only five months along but we don’t want anyone getting too rough with her now you know.”

 

Kuro hummed absent mindedly and tossed what might have been Keith’s entire wardrobe into the dark load of laundry.

 

“Kuro are you listening to me?”

 

Kuro blinked and urgently shifted through his thoughts to grasp onto the conversation he’d been half ignoring, “Yeah you're talking about the pregnant girl at the castle right? Rather she should keep taking clients.”

 

Lance nodded but stared down at him, through him, as though peering into his very soul, “Kuro is there something bothering you.”

 

Kuro stopped breathing for a moment eyes swiveling up to lock with his, no Shiro’s, soulmate, “I uh, um no it’s nothing.” He chunked another T-shirt that was obviously Keith’s into the washer.

 

“Hmm,” Lance slid off the dryer with an elegance that a man on his seventh cup of coffee should not be able to have. “I can’t fix the problem if I don’t know what it is.”

 

“I know.” Kuro closed the door to the washing machine with a sigh and hit the start button, “it’s just not that important.”

 

Lance wrapped his arms around Kuro’s waist and leaned his head against the broad expanse of his soulmates back, “Well I happen to be a master of dealing with unimportant things. Lay it on me.”

 

Kuro leaned back into the touch like a man starved. Feeling the tension in his shoulders physically leave him with every second Lance touched him, “I just-.” Kuro but his lip rolling the chapped skin between his teeth, “Do you think Keith hates me.”

 

Lance froze for half a second before barking out a loud laugh and stepping away from him, “I’m sorry what? Where on earth did you get that idea from?”

 

The area where Lance had been leaning against him felt cold, “I know it sounds dumb bu-“

 

“Hey,” Lance’s face was suddenly serious all mirth wiped off his face, “I never said it was dumb.”

 

Kuro could feel his face flushing with embarrassment. He shouldn’t have started this conversation, “Just forget it Lance it’s not important.”

 

Lance frowned, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have laughed. Why do you think Keith hates you.”

 

Kuro sighed and tucked his head into his shoulders, “He was gone this morning.”

 

“Yeeeeeah,” Lance leaned against the dryer, gentle vibrating with the hum of the light load Shiro had started earlier, “Which we’ve known about for like a week because he’s got that meeting with newest recruits for the red division.”

 

“Yes, but he usually at least wakes us up to say goodbye.”

 

“He woke me up?”

 

Kuro froze and blinked astonished at the younger man, “Case in point.”

 

Lance sighed and crossed his arms, “He probably just didn’t wake you up because you two went so hard last night. He probably thought you needed the rest.”

 

Kuro frowned and stared into the swirling storm of the washing machine, “That's another thing.” Kuro reaches up to hesitantly tug at the dee ring of their collar. “I’m the only one he roughs up that much when we have sex.”

 

“But you like it rough don't you? You’ve never safe worded out of a scene like that.”

 

“Well yeah,” he stretches just to feel the way the cuts on his back from the night before stretch and burn, “But, I'm the only one he does this too. It's not like he sliced open you, Gurē, or Shiro.”

 

“I mean technically…”

 

“You know what I mean.” Kuro huffs and crosses his arms, “The sex the two of us have is always violent and spur of the moment. One second we're arguing the next we’re fucking. Or we fight over who gets to have sex with you and end up fucking each other. Or we have sex because we haven't seen each other. Or because Keith needs to let loose when he hasn't killed anyone in a while.”

 

“You guys have had normal sex too.”

 

“Yeah, when you’re there.” Kuro grumbles before backtracking, “Not that I don't want to have sex with the three of us.”

 

Lance rolls his eyes, “Don't worry I know.” Lance sighs and reaches out to grab Kuro’s hand. “You know if you talk to him. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to have sex with you anytime.”

 

“It's not about the sex though. It's…” Kuro runs s hand through his hair, “I want him to care about me. Not just fuck me in a different way cause I'm bored or some bullshit.”

 

“Kuro we’re Soulmates we’re made for each other, of course, he cares about you.”

 

“Are we though?”

 

Lance raises an eyebrow, “You have someone else writing you haven't told us about?”

 

“No, I just mean=”

 

“Kuro, the three of us are Soulmates if there's nothing else you can have faith in have faith in that.”

 

‘But which one of us?’ Kuro’s brain practically shouts at him to ask the question but he doesn’t. Mostly because he’s scared of the answer but also because he feels like he knows the answer Lance would give. ‘You’re all a part of what makes you our soulmate. All three of you make up the man we love.’ But Kuro isn’t just a part of what makes up Takashi Shirogane. He's his own person. But if he's not the same person than whose to guarantee he is their soulmate. Especially when Shiro and Gurē seem to fit with Keith and Lance so much better.

 

XoX

 

Kuro opens the door to the outside and is surprised to see Keith leaning against the fence overlooking the city. Cigarette in hand and his jacket tied around his waist.

 

“Keith.”

 

“You used my real name in there with the informants. Now they really do both have to die.”

 

Kuro quickly runs their argument back through his head and realizes he had: twice. He sighs, “I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking.”

 

Keith snorts, “You weren’t.” He flicks the cigarette over the banister and turns without watching it land.

 

Kuro frowns but doesn't deny what Keith said looking away from the younger man as his violet eyes seem to rove over him.

 

“What's your issue anyway?”

 

Kuro feels anger curl around his lungs but he squashes it as firmly as he can, Keith hadn't said it to hurt him he’s just being his usual blunt self.

 

“Nothing. I just thought you were taking it too far in there.”

 

Keith stares at him for a long moment beautiful amethyst eyes still lit up with the flames of anger from their argument.

 

Kuro’s heart leaps into his throat when Keith suddenly whirls on him. Gripping his wrist and effortless twisting him around until he’s pinned between his boyfriend's chest and the banister overlooking the world below.

 

“I can’t believe you.” The words are hissed in his ears tinted with suppressed anger. “It’s like you’re intentionally trying to piss me off.”

 

Kuro opens his mouth to tell him that he isn’t. That he never actually wants to upset him. That he’s trying to be the rational one like Shiro. Even if he’s used to being the combative one. The one to run in guns a blazing. But Shiro has left the building for helping to take over in these situations. So here he is trying and failing to keep everything running smoothly. Kuro opens his mouth to say all of this.

 

But what leaves his mouth instead is a gasp of complete surprise as Keith shoves his hand down his pants, “Keith.” Kuro freezes as he feels Keith's hand make a beeline for his cock. Grinding the meat of his palm into him as though he’d die if he didn’t get Kuro hard as quickly as possible.

 

“Lance could be a cold corpse by now.” He hisses gripping the head of Shiro’s cock through the thin cotton of Kuro’s boxers. “He could be buried under six feet of rubble still struggling to climb out. Slowly panicking as his oxygen levels begin to dwindle.” He starts to almost aggressively jack him through his underwear still mostly flaccid but making a valiant effort at rising to the occasion.

 

“Keith I don’t-“

 

“Shut up,” Keith growls hot air huffing out against Kuro’s neck. “Unless the next words coming out of your mouth are your safe word I don’t wanna fucking hear it.”

 

Kuro’s jaw clatters shut obediently and Keith’s hand finally slips under the elastic of his boxers gripping Kuro’s cock tightly almost enough to hurt as he speaks, “All I can think about is all the ways he could be fucking dead!” Keith snarls and sinks his teeth into the meat of Kuro’s neck, “I just want to stop fucking thinking for five goddamn minutes.”

 

Something in Kuro’s brain clicks into place and he twists in Keith’s grip, scooping the shorter male up with ease and slamming him against the side of the apartment building, “Kuro please.” Keith hisses only to be cut off by Kuro’s mouth in a clash of teeth and tongue. This was something he could do after all. As long as Keith continues to pant his name against his throat and not Shiro’s or Gure’s he could do this as long as Keith needed.

 

XoX

 

“Ah, you must be Makai.”

 

Hunk stepped into a room that could have easily have been mistaken for a regular penthouse office. The back wall was lined with floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the busy city street below. They were so high off the ground the people below loomed almost like ants, scuttling about their business completely unaware that the building they walked by was festering with criminal underground so many of them feared.

 

Aside from the windows, there was a large seating area equipped with several plush brown couches and a low table with a handful of magazines. A single copy of the morning newspaper was also sitting on the table. The paper opened to an interview with the governor about the steadily climbing crime rate in Illinois. But the centerpiece of the room was clearly the large desk.

In the center of the room silhouetted by the warm light of the setting sun. In a large black desk chair sat the hulking mass of a man Hunk could only guess was Rax. He sat comfortable large arms folded over his chest with his legs kicked up on the mahogany desk. Dressed in a crisp violet suit made out of thick velvet the man painted an impressive picture of power. Not that Hunk was worried.

 

The man stood from his chair towering easily over six and a half feet. Okay, scratch that maybe he’s a little worried. What did this family eat?

 

Rax rounded the table and extended his hand out to shake Hunk’s his face was carefully guarded in an expression Lance called the ‘business face’, “Your information helped me locate my cousin. You have my thanks for that.”

 

Hunk grabbed the offered hand and struggled not to wince at the bone-crushing way the larger man gripped his hand. “You’ve proven to have a lot of potential. The rest of the information you brought in on Voltron will be very useful the next time we ‘negotiate’ our territory.” The word negotiate was said with a scowl. Rax finally released his hand and Hunk flexed and stretched it to try and get the blood to run back through it again.

 

“Sister.” Rax turned to the door to finally address his sister, his eyes went soft for barely a second before his expression became stoic once more, “You’re dismissed.”

 

Shay’s eyes darted between the two of them nervously before giving a soft smile to them both, “Of course. I’ll be on the-“ she glanced at Hunk for a moment and cut herself off with a cough, “I’ll return home than.” Shay gave them one last smile before leaving the room. The door closing behind her with a gentle click.

 

The two men stood in silence for an almost uncomfortable amount of silence before Hunk was abruptly patted on the shoulder. “I’ve heard you work quite hard in the workshop.”

 

“Uh, yeah, sure. I guess?”

 

“You guess?” Rax raised an eyebrow and Hunk flushes.

 

“Uh, yeah. I’ve always loved making stuff you know. Never really thought I’d end up doing this sort of work when I was younger but…” Hunk shrugs, “Life you know.”

 

“Would you like to leave?”

 

Hunk shook his head, “Nah, this is my life now. No use trying to change everything especially if I’m happy doing what I’m doing. Even if it does get a little boring every now and then working in the workshop all day.”

 

Rax smiled and Hunk couldn’t help but feel like The other man had been expecting that answer, “Well Makai, today’s your lucky day.”

 

“It is?”

 

Rax grinned and leaned back against his desk, “May I be frank with you for a moment Makai. Man to man.”

 

Hunk frowned uncomfortably but nodded.

 

“Men in our life live very dangerous lives.” Rax plucked a pen from his desk and rolled it between his fingers. “But we’re still men. As mundane or inspiring as you find that fact to be.” Rax tucked the pen between his teeth and slowly began to roll up his sleeve revealing sunburnt orange writing in a language Hunk had never seen before, “We live. We die. We have children and soulmates,” he scribbled something on his wrist in the same strange language before dropping the pen back on the desk, “We eat. We sleep. We have needs, wants and desires.” He flashed Hunk a boyish grin and suddenly Hunk was shocked by the realization of how young the two of them were, “and we get bored of course.”

 

“Sir, where is this going?”

 

“The cousin your information helped save, Taz.” He crosses his arms across his chest, “Well, he came back with an interesting...prize if you will.” Rax scowled, “Now personally I’m not a fan of prostitutes. Rife with diseases and so hungry for drugs they’re more dangerous than full-fledged gangsters at times.” He leaned forward as if to tell Hunk a secret, “But, even I can see the draw in the pretty boy he brought back with him. I thought a night with him might be a fitting reward for returning my family to me.”

 

Hunk could feel his jaw drop in surprise, “Uh, thank you for the offer sir but I’m not really interested in men.”

 

Rax laughed, “Neither is Taz. You’ll hardly notice.”

 

“I..uh...um.”

 

Rax laughed again, “How about you meet him first. No harm in at least meeting your prize before denying it outright.” Rax leaned back against the desk once more before raising his voice to yell, “Taz you can bring our guest in now.”

 

A door Hunk had failed to notice before swung open and a man Hunk assumed was Taz based on sheer size alone stepped into Rax’s office. Followed quickly by a much smaller man th-

 

That was Lance.

 

Thank Tagaloa, he survived.

 

“Hey there, hot stuff.” Lance purred in a way Hunk really wished he’d never heard directed at himself, “I think the two of us are gonna have a lot of fun.” And then he winked.

 

On second thought maybe it would have been better if Lance had died in the explosion.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I know it's been a long time since I last updated but in case you missed it I actually wrote another prequel to this story! It's bigger than the original story and goes further in depth about what happened once the three main characters found out they were soulmates. Please go read it if you enjoyed this chapter. Fair warning it's by fair the most graphic part of the series so far both in terms of gore and sexual content.
> 
> Important!  
> Someone made fan-art for this story. I love it so much. Please look at it I promise you won't be disappointed!
> 
> https://phiantetry-art.tumblr.com/post/176272077117/so-this-is-some-fanart-for-blackblooddoomwolfs?is_highlighted_post=1
> 
> https://phiantetry-art.tumblr.com/post/176540152667/second-lion-for-blackblooddoomwolfs-gang-au?is_highlighted_post=1
> 
> As always i'd like to thank everyone again for reading and encourage you to leave a comment or kudos. Seeing other people excited about my writing really helps fuel me to write! Thanks in advance!


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